My One and Only
by Noterwomann
Summary: Reposted Fighting has gotten bad between Ron and Hermione. Tension mounts and the unthinkable happens, Ron calls Hermione a Mudblood. AU PreHBP
1. Insults

Chapter 1: Insults

All summer Harry had been looking forward to the time when he would be allowed to leave Number 4 Privet Drive. It had nothing to do with how the Dursley's, his aunt, uncle and cousin, treated him. What could they possibly do that was any worse then what he had already done to himself? Nothing. No, it was the never ending solitude he wanted to escape. He was trapped in a vicious cycle of blame, guilt and self-deprecation.

He knew he shouldn't hold himself responsible for Sirius's death, so Ron, Hermione and Ginny reminded him in every letter they exchanged in the past weeks. But when left alone for hours on end Harry's mind replayed that torturous night over and over in his brain to the point where he feared he might go mad. Yes, he blamed himself, despite what the others said, and how could he not? It was because of him that Sirius left the safety of Grimmauld Place that night. If he hadn't tried to play the hero none of it would have happened. Sirius would still be alive.

And so the inner torture continued, driving Harry insane in the process. But just when he thought he couldn't stand a minute more of his solitude and guilt he received word from Ron that the Weasley's were coming for him. He had his trunk packed and Hedwig's cage set for travel minutes after receiving the owl and had passed the next few unbearable hours by pacing the length of his room. He had never been so glad to see the Weasley family in his life. They had his trunk stored in the boot of the Ministry car within minutes and were quickly on their way to the Number 12. Ironically enough, it wasn't until he arrived at Grimmauld Place that he realized that for perhaps the first time in his life he wished he were back at Privet Drive.

From the moment he stepped in the old and just slightly less musty smelling house, he could feel the air crackling with uncomfortable tension. According to Ginny the mood had been heavy at Grimmauld Place since Hermione had joined the Weaselys there three weeks after school ended. She and Ron, who seemed to have abandoned their rows the previous year, reinstituted them with an alarming vengeance. It seemed all that was needed for a row to ensue was for one of the two to enter a room where the other was already residing. Within minutes the two were at it and the other occupants of the house were ducking for cover.

When Harry had joined them four weeks before school was to begin he had at first welcomed the arguing. The constant bickering stopped him from focusing on Sirius's death. However the squabbling that had been over small things, like Ron's dislike for Kreature or Hermione's insistence that they all finish their homework before the summer was over, had digressed to a full out name calling war.

Harry kept his head ducked down as he stared at his eggs that had gone quiet cold while he pushed them uncomfortably around his plate with his fork. Like the others in the room he had lost his appetite quickly at the first sounds of Ron and Hermione's latest fight. They had started early this morning and the sounds of their angry shouts had grown with intensity as the minutes passed. From the tone of their voices, which were easily identifiable, though their owners were tucked away somewhere on the first floor, it sounded as if this battle would be one of their worst thus far. Harry couldn't make out distinct words, but by the tenor of their voices and the intensity of their disagreement Harry knew from experience that they had both dug in their heels for a long fight and neither would give in.

It wasn't until the first insult was thrown that the four people gathered in the kitchen could clearly here what the two teenagers were saying.

"Know-it-all!" Came Ron's infuriated voice.

There was a slight pause where Harry could clearly picture Hermione's face growing red. "Obtuse, Lazy, Prat!"

"Brown Nosed Teachers Pet!"

"Weasel!" She taunted back tight lipped with fury.

"Beaver!" He screamed in retaliation.

A shrill, indignant screech was followed by "Pauper!"

Harry and Ginny were instantly at their feet scampering for the door. They both knew they had let things digress too far. Harry scrunched up his brown in prayer that they would reach the two before anything to damning could be said. They were about to push open the heavy panel when the final insult was flung out.

"Mudblood!"

The moment the word escaped his lips Ron wished he could snatch it back. Hermione flinched away from him as if he had physically struck her. Instantly her posture waned, shoulders sagging and chin dropping to her chest. The fight had gone completely out of her. Her chocolate brown eyes filled, glistening with the sheen of unshed tears.

Ron felt a plummeting sensation in his heart. Reaching a pleading hand towards her he tried to apologize but she would have none of it. Whirling around she fled the room leaving Ron to stare after her with a guilt heavy heart.

Hermione burst into the kitchen moments later with tears streaming heavily down her paled face. "Harry." She caught sight of her friend and flung herself into his arms, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Shhh." He tried to sooth, tightening his arms around her. "He didn't mean it. You know he didn't."

"He…h…h…he did." She sobbed brokenly, "Or he wo…wouldn't h…have said it."

"Hermione…I…"

Hermione wrenched herself away from Harry simultaneously cutting him off and turned to Mrs. Weasley who was standing at the counter a stunned look still on her face. "Mrs. Weasley, I want to go home."

Snapping out of her stunned immobility, Molly set the pan of now over cooked eggs on the counter. She strode purposefully towards Hermione while she wiped her hands on her apron. "Hermione, dear," her voice was soft and soothing ,like she was speaking to a distraught child, "I understand. I really do. Why Arthur and I…" She faltered when she caught sight of Hermione's eyes. There was a wealth of pain and utter humiliation in the young girl's eyes. "I'm afraid that it's not possible."

Hermione sank despondently onto the nearest bench, her shoulders shaking violently with racking sobs. Molly crouched in front of the slight girl, taking her hands comfortingly in her own. "It's not safe for you to go home, dear." She cupped Hermione's cheek tenderly, her own heart breaking for the young girl.

"Mrs. Weasley, please."

Molly shook her head regretfully. "I can't dear. It's simply not safe." Hermione covered her face with her hands, attempting to hide the horrifying sight of her tears. And Molly's heart clenched a little tighter. "But I will talk to Albus." She promised, not knowing what else to say. She ran her fingers comfortingly through the young girls hair like she had done with her own children many times before. "We'll see what he can do, all right?" She squeezed Hermione's shaking hand when she didn't answer. "Is that all right, dear?"

Hermione nodded absently as she struggled to staunch the heavy flow of her tears. "I…if y…you'll ex…excuse me?"

She jumped to her feet and raced from the room leaving Molly, Arthur and Ginny to stare stricken after her.

"I'll go find her." Harry murmured before he too left the eerily quiet kitchen.

Molly sank slowly onto the bench closest to her husband and blindly groped for his hand. Her face was a mask of shock and horror. "I can not believe _my_ son said that."

"Molly…" Mr. Weasley began tentatively, his voice quivering slightly. He was in a state of semi shock. Out of all of his children, Ron was the last one he expected to behave like this.

"Arthur." Molly cried, her fingers tightening painfully around his. "I don't understand. We raised him better then this. We've never used foul words like that in or home. Mudblood, Halfblood, Pureblood. It's disgusting." She spat. "You mark my word it's terminology like that that let You-Know-Who gain power in the first place."

"I know that, mum." Molly, Arthur and Ginny abruptly turned to face Ron standing in the portal of the swinging door. None of them had heard him come in. "I don't know why I said it." He lifted his head, which had been hanging so low it nearly touched his chest, to meet his parents with pleading eyes. "You know I don't think that way. I mean, I was the one who always tried and stop Malfoy from calling her that and stood up for her. It's just… mum, she called me a weasel and a pauper. The _only_ person who _ever_ does that is Draco Malfoy."

"That is not an excuse." Molly raged, rising angrily to her feet, dropping her husbands hand. "Hermione Granger is one of your best friends." She shouted, her face turning red with anger and shame.

"I know that!" He hollered back, pounding his fist painfully against the hard wood of the frame. "I know that." He reiterated, his voice quivering with emotion. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry."

Molly looked pointedly at her youngest son. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

In the top most reaches of the old house, tucked away in the far back corner of the attic, Harry and Hermione sat huddled together. Harry had his arms wrapped tight around Hermione in a comforting, brotherly hug. Hermione had her face pressed into his shoulder as she sobbed out her pain. Knowing that he just needed to give Hermione time and let her cry out her tears, he simply held her and rocked gently back and forth in a soothing motion. He knew there was no point reasoning with her until she calmed down and allowed herself to think rationally.

After fifteen minutes had passed Hermione pulled away and rubbed roughly at her puffy eyes. "I'm sorry Harry. I just…"

"Don't even think on it, Hermione." He pulled her to him again and rested his head on top of hers. "Do you feel any better?" She nodded slightly. He waited a few more minutes before asking. "Are you really going to leave?"

Hermione pulled herself away from Harry, her body language that of a person who had had the fight taken out of her. "I have to, Harry. I can't stay here. Not anymore. Not after…" She pressed her eyes into the pads of her hands. "We've been fighting all summer, Harry, and it's just getting worse. God," she turned away from his wrapping her arms tight around her knees, "I never dreamed he thought that about me."

"He doesn't." Harry insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Then why did he say it?" She snapped, whirling around to glare at Harry. "He's a hypocrite. That's what he is." Her voice rose as her hurt began to diminish, replaced by a deep set anger. "All this time he's pretended to be my friend. He let us believe that he cares about equality for all witches and wizards when really…he just sees me as a Mudblood." She spat out the word as if merely saying it caused bile to gather in her mouth. "I even began to think…well," she turned away and resumed her hold on her knees, "it doesn't matter anymore what I thought." She sniffed despondently into her knees. "I should have known he didn't care about equality. You know how he feels about house elf slavery."

"Hermione," Harry tried tentatively, years of being her friend taught him that it was impossible to change her mind once she had made it up, "will you please talk to him before you go."

"Why should I?" She tilted her chin up in an all too familiar pose.

"Because," Harry said simply, "he's one of your best friends."

"Correction. He _was_ one of my best friends." Hermione tossed her hair defiantly over her shoulder. "If I never saw him again it would be too soon."

Ron sat on the last step just inside the door at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the attic, body hunched over his legs, fingers thrust into the rich locks of his hair as he listened to every word spoken between the two friends, hating himself more and more as the seconds past. But with the last his heart gave a great lurch and he bound to his feet and bid a hasty retreat. He couldn't stand to listen to anymore. It felt as though his heart was breaking into a million pieces inside his chest. Out of all the stupid, mindless things he had done in his life, this topped them all. His family was ashamed of him, Hermione hated him and Harry was meagerly defending him.

"Ron." He cringed at the sound of Ginny's voice. Even his baby sister sounded like she would rather not speak to him. "Dumbledore's here. Where's Hermione?"

Ron numbly jabbed his thumb over his shoulder indicating the stairwell he had just exited. "In the attic. With Harry." He continued his solemn walk down the hallway his head hanging low and his shoulders hunched about his ears.

Seeing the look of absolute devastation on her brother's face she felt a lurch of sympathy for him in her heart. "Ron." Ginny called after him, stopping him with the genuine concern in her voice. "She'll forgive you. Just give her time."

"Yeah." He murmured, shrugging his shoulders, not really believing her. "Sure." And he continued to trudge along the corridor lost in his own guilt and shame.

Shaking her head sadly Ginny mounted the steps to the attic and found Harry once again holding Hermione protectively in his arms. "Harry. Hermione." The two looked up at her questioningly. "Dumbledore's arrived." She nodded at Hermione. "He wants to speak with you."

Harry let go of Hermione so that he could rise to his feet. He quickly brushed the dirt from his trousers before he reached down to offer Hermione a hand up. When she was on her feet and had composed herself he put his arms around her shoulder once again. Ginny took the place on Hermione's other side and slipped her arm through hers.

Harry glanced at Ginny over Hermione's head. Ginny gave a slight nod. They were in agreement. They would take care of Hermione first and Ron later.

"Miss Granger," the old wizard sighed heavily. "I fear leaving Grimmauld Place right now is out of the question. You are at much too high a risk of being attacked."

"I don't care. Anything would be better then this." Hermione caught her head in her hands. "All we do is fight, sir. And it's getting worse." She shook her head sadly. "I can't take it anymore. Living like this isn't good for me or Ron and mostly not for Harry."

"Leave me out of this." Harry murmured from the next couch over.

Hermione continued as if Harry hadn't spoken. "And he…"

Dumbledore held up a long hand to halt her. "I'm aware of what he called you, Miss Granger. I must say I am quiet surprise. I don't know what he could have been thinking." Dumbledore's eyes, which normally twinkled with an inner light, seemed sad and defeated today. "But the fact of the matter is returning home is not an option. The only place with nearly enough security is Hogwarts…"

"I'll go." Hermione jumped in immediately, cutting him off. "I'll go right now." She rose impatiently to her feet.

"Miss Granger, I didn't mean…" Dumbledore sighed heavily seeing the look of determination in the young witch's eye. She was bound and determined to leave and whether that was to return to her home in London or find accommodations elsewhere, nothing was going to stop her. "You do understand that besides myself and a few teachers, you would be quiet alone."

"I don't mind." She assured him immediately talking a hasty step forward. "Professor? Do you think I might have access to the library?" Her eyes glimmered with a faint hint of excitement at the prospect of having the entire Hogwarts library to herself.

The old wizard looked down at her, his lips twitching at the corners despite himself. "Of course you would be allowed access to the library." Dumbledore stared down at her intently a moment before his brow arched slightly. "Are you sure you don't wish to spend the remainder of your summer with your friends?"

Hermione looked over at Harry and Ginny, pleading them to understand. Almost hesitantly they nodded, Ginny first followed shortly after by Harry. She turned back to the old wizard and nodded her head once assertively. "I can always keep in touch with them by owl."

Sighing with defeat Dumbledore rose from the seat he was sitting in. "All right then, Miss Granger. Go collect your belongings." Hermione stopped long enough to smile her gratitude before she fled the room. Turning slowly to face the other two teenagers in the room, Dumbledore addressed Ginny first. "Miss Weasley, would you mind helping Miss Granger as I have a private word with Harry?"

"Of course not, sir." Ginny assured before she scurried after Hermione.

"Molly, Arthur." Wordlessly the two adults nodded and left the room giving Harry and Dumbledore privacy to talk.

Hermione had made quick work of packing her trunk. Most of her belongings were already stored inside. She was just placing her favorite book safely in her trunk when Ron stepped hesitantly into the room. He watched her a moment before he called her name softly. She stiffened immediately at the sound of his voice. "Don't turn around." He bade when she started to turn and face him. "I know you don't want to see me and I…" She heard his heavy sigh and she closed her eyes as her heart clenched slightly at the sound of it. "I know you're leaving and I… I just wanted to say how sorry I am before you left. You have no idea how much I regret loosing my temper. I just…I'm sorry."

Hermione waited calmly for him to continue but when no further words came she spun around. She wanted to give him a piece of her mind before she left, only when she turned it was to find that the doorway was empty. She rushed to it and poked her head into the hallway and turned it both ways looking for a sign of him but he was gone. He must have run like hell was nipping at his heels she decided. _Coward_. She thought angrily to her self as she turned back to the room. She watched as Ginny avoiding her eyes, slowly folded her last jumper and placed it neatly at the top of the pile in her trunk.

"Thank you, Ginny." Hermione strode assertively forward and lowered the lid so she could sit on top of it while Ginny latched it shut for her. When the lid was secure Hermione scampered off and pulled her robes off the end of the bed, slipping them quickly around her shoulders.

Ginny stood wordlessly of to the side and watched her friend with intent eyes. Growing more awkward under friends silent stare Hermione finally spun to face her. "What?" She demanded irritatedly.

"I don't think you should go." Ginny blurted out hastily.

"What? Of course I should."

Ginny sighed and sat down with a flop on the foot of her bed. "No Hermione, I don't think you should. I think you should stay and fix what ever is wrong between you and my brother."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Ginny. I'll see him in three weeks. We can fix it then."

The redhead pursed her lips angrily. "What if you don't see him in three weeks?" She rose angrily to her feet, her hands finding their way to her hips, perfecting a hostile pose. "What if something happens to one of you?"

"Nothing's going to happen."

"It could." The younger girl insisted emotionally. "Voldemort's back. Remember? Any one of us could die at any moment. It's only a mater of time until he attacks."

"Ginny," Hermione snapped. "Stop it. You're trying to guilt me into staying and it's not going to work." She turned to face her friend, her eyes misty with tears "You know why I can't stay." She looked away. "It's too hard."

Ginny lowered her eyes a moment as she fought an internal debate. "Why don't you tell him?" she asked hesitantly.

Hermione laughed with disbelief. "You're joking right? I should go tell him now? Now after he's called me a Mudblood? That's a smashing idea. Why didn't I think of it? Let me hop to it."

"Don't get short with me. I'm not the one who called you that. I don't know why he said that. But it's Ron, he says stupid things. You know that. Hermione," Ginny walked forward and placed a hand on her friends arm. "I know he regrets it."

Hermione turned away so that Ginny wouldn't see the emotions playing across her face. "Then he shouldn't…"

"have said it. I know." Her hand dropped away. "He shouldn't have. But you wouldn't be so hard on him if you saw his face when he left the attic."

Hermione's face scrunched in confusion "Ron wasn't in the attic."

"Yes," Ginny nodded. "He was. I saw him leave when I came to get you when Dumbledore arrived."

Hermione's heart twinged in her chest when she realized Ron must have heard everything she had said to Harry. But after a moment of feeling guilty she shook away her remorse reminding herself that she didn't want a friend who used words like Mudblood.

"I'm not ready to forgive him, Ginny." She shook her head sadly. "I don't know if I ever will be."

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore's voice called from the hallway. His familiar face appeared in the doorframe. "Are you ready to leave?"

Hermione gave her bushy head a firm nod. "Yes, Headmaster." She took hold of the handle to her trunk to drag it down the stairs but Dumbledore held up an impeding hand.

"Why don't I get that for you?" As soon as Hermione released the handle Dumbledore flicked his wand and the trunk shrunk down to pocket size. As soon as it ceased shrinking he summoned it and slipped it easily into his pocket. "Off we go then."

Hermione turned to Ginny and wrapped her in a lingering hug. "I'll see you in three weeks." She promised as she gave the young girl a final squeeze.

"Please try and forgive him." Ginny pleaded a she released Hermione. "For all of our sakes."

Ignoring Ginny's last request, Hermione turned back to the Headmaster. "Where's Harry?"

"He's waiting in the entrance hall with Molly and Arthur to say goodbye."

Hermione hurried down the stairs and flung her arms around Harry, hugging him tight. "Thank you, Harry."

"What are friends for." Harry squeezed her extra tight, holding her a bit longer when she first tried to pull away.

She laughed softly as she broke free of his hug, giving him a peculiar look when he finally let her go. "I'll see you in three weeks."

"Yeah." Harry patted her shoulder. "Three weeks."

Giving Harry a last puzzled look Hermione turned to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, thanking them for their kindness and hospitality which Molly immediately waved aside.

"Nonsense, dear." Molly wrapped the young girl in another tight embrace. "You know I think of you and Harry as one of my own." She patted Hermione's cheek affectionately. "You be a good girl and stay out of trouble."

"I will." Hermione promised giving the room one final heroic smile.

Ron watched through the crack in the sitting room door as Hermione turned without a backward glance and stepped out the front door. He was about to push the door closed when Dumbledore's head turned in his direction. Ron could see the regret and sympathy in the old man's eyes before he also turned and disappeared through the large portal.

Ron turned and leaned against the door forcing it closed with his weight. Slowly he sank to the floor, his back gliding against the heavy panel. When he reached the floor he let his head come to rest on his drawn up knees. Almost instantly his shoulders began to shake with silent tears.


	2. Pig, Dumbledore, and Zograf

Chapter 2: Pig, Dumbledore and Zograf.

Hermione sighed with satisfaction as she sank into the sofa closest to the fire in the Gryffindor common room. She lay with her back against the arm rest, her knees bent up so she could prop her newly acquired library book against her thighs. She took a moment to close her eyes and savor the complete silence of the common room. Since leaving Grimmauld Place she had been able to finish half of the books she had wanted to read in the Hogwarts library and in the comfort of the Gryffindor common room, no less, thanks to the fact that for the first time in her memory it was quiet enough to concentrate and free of interruptions. Namely that of a certain annoying red head she knew. Perhaps if she played her cards right, she mused to herself, Dumbledore would let her stay at Hogwarts next summer holiday as well and she could finish all the books in the library. Hermione nearly giggled with joy at the thought of it.

She was just settling into her book when she was disturbed by a sudden, persistent tapping at the window. Hermione growled with aggravation at the familiar sound, "Go away, Pig." She called, not bothering to look up from the page she had turned to. "I don't want it."

This had become a daily occurrence for her. The first owl had appeared the day after she arrived, and Hermione, still feeling the sting and betrayal of Ron's insult, had sent Pig back to him with the letter unopened. To her surprise the next day another owl arrived as well as the day after that, and the day after that. His letters continued to come despite the fact that everyday she sent the message back to him unopened. If she was in better standing with Ron she might have admired him for his persistence, but as it was she found his antics quiet annoying.

Disregarding Hermione's angry order to go away Pig continued to flutter just outside the window, his little beak pecking entreatingly at the window, making it nearly impossible for Hermione to concentrate. Rolling her eyes she raised the heavy volume in front of her face to block it from the window. Hermione snorted smuggle. Ron must think himself fairly clever, telling Pig not to leave until she accepted the letter. Well that was just too bad, because she wasn't going to give in. She wasn't ready to forgive him and she wasn't going to let him worm his way out of this one.

Hermione turned back to her book and concentrated on the words, using them to block out the sound coming from the closed window. And after a while the sound faded into the background and it no longer registered to her thought absorbed brain. It was the sound of the portrait hole swinging open that finally drew her attention away from the heavy tome once again. She whirled around in surprise, her head snapping painfully toward the portal.

"Professor McGonagall." Hermione said with surprise, throwing her body into a sitting position at the sight of her favorite teacher and mentor. "What are you doing here? Is something the matter?"

"No, no." McGonagall assured her. Striding further into the room, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I have a message for…" her voice tapered off as she turned her head, looking curiously around the room. "Miss Granger, where is that tapping coming from?"

'What?" Hermione blinked at her several time until she remembered Ron's owl was fluttering madly outside her window. "Oh, that's Pig, Professor."

"Pig?" The older witch walked briskly towards the window.

"Ron's owl." She explained.

McGonagall turned away from the window, a curious expression on her face. "Why on earth haven't you let him in?"

"Because, Professor," she placed a marker in her book, setting it neatly aside. "I have no desire to read what Ron has to say."

The old witches brow arched with surprise. "Is that so?"

"It is." Hermione shifted under McGonagall's observant stare. She cleared her throat softly, dispelling the silence before speaking. "Was there a reason you wished to see me, Professor?"

The stern looking witch nodded her head sharply. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you."

Hermione rose gingerly to her feet and followed McGonagall from the Common Room. Neither spoke as McGonagall lead her through the eerily empty hallways passing many sleeping portraits and still suits of armor until they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Nosebleed Nugget." Minerva said with a roll to her eye. Hermione couldn't help but smile as the mammoth statue jumped aside to reveal a spiraling stone staircase. Fred and George would be pleased to know that another of their creations had been deemed worthy enough by the Headmaster to be used as a password.

McGonagall stepped aside and assured her hands toward the stone steps. "He asked to see you alone." She explained when Hermione hesitated.

Taking a calming breath Hermione stepped onto the spiraling staircase uncertain of what was so important that the Headmaster needed to see her now. She hadn't seen him since the day he came to remove her from Number 12.

When she reached the landing at the top of the staircase she found his office door closed. She hurried towards the door, lifting her hand to knock. Before her knuckled could make contact with the rough wood Dumbledore's voice sounded pleasantly from inside. "Please come in, Miss Granger."

Taking hold of the handle, Hermione gave it a sharp turn and pushed open the door revealing for the first time the sight of Dumbledore's office. Sitting opposite her behind his massive desk, Dumbledore smile kindly, a soft twinkle in his pale blue eyes. "How are you feeling, Miss Granger?"

Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. "I'm feeling fine, sir." She stepped through the portal and closed it behind her at Dumbledore's gesture.

"Are you really?" He leaned back in his seat, pressing the tips of his fingers together. "I am not so certain." The old wizard sighed heavily as he waved a hand at a chair sitting in front of his desk, indicating that Hermione should take it. "I don't know what Mr. Weasley was thinking when…"

"Professor," Hermione surprised the old man when she interrupted him. "Not to be rude, but could we please not talk about that? I'm finally managing to forget. I think."

His eyes narrowed on her. "Of course." He agreed however reluctantly. "I just wanted to be certain that you were all right. I don't wish for you to make any rash decisions."

She leaned slightly forward in her seat her interest piqued. "Rash decisions? About what, sir?" Hermione's brow wrinkled with intrigue.

Dumbledore rose elegantly to his feet, his eccentric purple robes falling into place around him, and walked around the side of his desk to idly stroke the plumage of his pet phoenix.

"I was contacted at the begging of this holiday by the headmaster of Durmstrang Academy." Hermione's eyes narrowed quizzically. "It appears Headmaster Zograf has a young student who wishes to participate in an exchange program with our school." He ceased his stroking to fold his hands in front of his body, turning so that he could see his young charge and gage her reaction. "At first I had no intention of allowing any students to participate in this exchange. With the state of our world right now I thought it best to keep everyone close to home. However," Dumbledore nodded his head slightly to the side. "After much deliberation I've changed my mind. If I don't allow this exchange I'll be playing right into Voldemort's hands. Halting our lives, being frightened of taking chances, that's what he wants. If I don't allow this exchange I will be dancing to his strings, and I won't allow myself to let that happen."

Hermione licked her bottom lip as it had suddenly gone dry. "Why are you telling me this, sir?" Being the brightest witch of her age she of course had her suspicions why exactly the Headmaster was sharing this with her, but wanted to make certain before she let her excitement carry her away.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly at the teenage witch who was literally ready to bounce off her seat with excitement. "I'm telling you this, Miss Granger, because I have selected you to participate in this exchange. I believe you would be the ideal candidate. You have top marks in all your classes. You actively engaged in befriending students from the other schools during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and have proven yourself many times over. I have full confidence that you can handle what ever comes your way."

Hermione bit down hard on her lip as she tried to contain her screech of excitement. "I get to go to Bulgaria?"

Dumbledore nodded as he returned to his seat. "I am relieved to see that you are genuinely interested in my proposition."

Hermione started in surprise. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Please try to understand, Miss Granger. It's not that I don't have full confidence in you. I do." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts. "However, I did fear that you might jump to a hasty decision because of your disagreement with Mr. Weasley."

The joy that had lit Hermione's face moments before faded immediately. "I hadn't even considered that."

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps you should." He placed his arms on the table, finger tips pressed together so that they steepled towards the ceiling. "If you decided this is something that you genuinely wish to do you'll be leaving within the next week. I know this is rather short notice, but as I explained I have only recently come to the decision to allow this exchange to take place. And then came the process of ironing out the last of the details with Headmaster Zorgraf. But coming back to the point, if you do decide to participate you will be leaving within the week, so I want you to consider this carefully."

Hermione stared down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. This was the opportunity of a life time, one that she was loath to pass up. But the thought of leaving Hogwarts without patching things up with Ron didn't sit right in her stomach. After all, for the past five years he had been one of her best friends. One of her best friends? Him and Harry. Harry? What about Harry?

Hermione's head snapped up. "Professor, what about Harry?" she asked, voicing her concerns. "He told Ron and I about the prophesy this summer. I don't think it would be wise to leave him right now."

Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at Hermione's concern and loyalty. "I've already discussed the matter with Harry."

"You have?" Her spine straightened. "When?"

"The day you left Grimmauld Place. I spoke with Harry alone and he assured me that he was perfectly all right with the idea." The old wizard chuckled softly. "He did however make a few demands before he agreed."

Hermione's brow arched with intrigue. "What type of demands?"

Dumbledore tried to stop his lips from twitching but found it quiet impossible. "First he insisted that I provide a way that instant communication could be maintained between the two of you., a reasonable request I believe. Secondly he insisted that I fin d a means to bring you home immediately if there was a need."

"Oh." Hermione slumped back in her seat with surprise. "That was very prudent of him." She said with pride in her voice, believing that she had finally rubbed off on at least one of her two best friends. Hermione looked up into Dumbledore's laughing eyes. "Have you found a way to accommodate his wishes?"

Dumbledore nodded his silver white head. "I have." He opened a drawer in his massive desk and retrieved an oblong piece of glass. He set it gently on the smooth surface of his desk before giving it a gentle push and let it glide across the surface into Hermione's waiting hands. She lifted the smooth glass off the desk and held it before her face and found to her surprise that it was completely void of her own reflection. Her eyes snapped up to Dumbledore's in surprise.

"What is this, Headmaster?"

"That, Miss Granger, is your means of speaking with Harry. I'll give the other to Mr. Potter as soon as he arrives for the beginning of term. All you must do is tap the glass with your wand and Harry's will start glowing, indicating that you wish to speak with him. As soon as he taps his own with his wand you can talk freely with each other without any fear of your conversation being over heard or intercepted."

Hermione's mouth fell open with amazement. "This is ingenious."

Dumbledore chuckled with amusement. "I thought you might approve."

Hermione inspected the mirror for a few minutes more before setting it purposefully on the desk. She bit her bottom lip a moment in thought as she considered how to fraise her next question. "And what of the immediate transportation home? I agree with Harry. He needs me, and if there isn't a way come home in an emergency then I'm not going."

"You see that one took me a bit more time to sort. The most obvious solution is an emergency portkey. But naturally this is easier said then accomplished. Under normal circumstances I would have to go through the ministry to receive one. Unfortunately we don't know who we can trust within the ministry at the present time. So I took it upon myself." Dumbledore reached a long fingered hand into his pocket and retrieved a small glass orb that greatly resembled Neville's Remembral. He reached across the expanse of his desk and placed the orb gently in Hermione's outstretched hand. "The portkey is inside the ball. Because it is illegal it is imperative that you understand that you are only to use it in case of a dire emergency. It is not to be used on a whim if you become homesick. Do I make myself clear?" Hermione nodded her understanding as she slipped the spun ball into her pocket.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore waved her thanks airily aside. "There's no need. No need at all. I think this experience will be very good for you. You might be surprised how educational an exchange experience like this can be. Do you have any questions you would like to ask me?"

Hermione tipped her head to the side a moment in consideration. "When do I leave?"

The Headmaster's lips spread into a bright smile. "The Term starts for Durmstrang next Wednesday. Headmaster Zograf and I thought it would be best if you left on Tuesday. That way you will be settled and familiar with some of your new surroundings when the rest of your classmates arrive. Now," Dumbledore rose to his feet, "If you don't have any more questions, perhaps it would be best if you went and begun your packing."

Hermione rose to her feet clutching the mirror protectively to her chest. She scampered from the room in her excitement but hurried back when she realized she hadn't thanked the Headmaster properly. She rushed back into the room and without any humiliation hugged the old man around the middle like she would a grandfather. "Thank you for everything, Headmaster."

Dumbledore patted her shoulder and smiled down at her affectionately. "It was my pleasure, Miss Granger. Now run along."

With a last squeal the young girl fled from the room a final time and Dumbledore couldn't help but smile at the excitement he saw in her every movement. Perhaps time away from her troubles would rejuvenate Hermione like nothing else could and when she returned she could mend her broken friendship with Ronald Weasley and they could once again be the friends that Harry needed them to be and maybe become what they needed for each other.

"Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything, Miss Granger?"

Hermione caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she quickly went over her mental check list one last time. When it was clear in her mind she gave her head a kurt nod. "Yes, Sir. I have everything."

"All right then." Dumbledore indicated a blue teacup sitting on the corner of his desk. "When you are ready, the portkey will take you to the International Portkey Station. Remus Lupin will be waiting there for you. He'll make sure you reach the connecting port station. Headmaster Zograf will be waiting for you at the end of your journey."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you again, Headmaster. For everything."

The old man smiled fondly at his young charge. "Have a wonderful time Miss Granger." He nodded his silver head. "When ever you're ready."

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. Squaring her shoulders she took hold of her trunks handle before she reached out and grasped onto the dainty blue teacup. With a tug behind her navel and a sudden lurch forward Hermione disappeared from Dumbledore's office.

Hermione's feet slammed into the ground for the second time that day. A jarring pain went up her shins as she stumbled forward, nearly collapsing to the ground. Before she made contact with the hard floor she felt a hand latch onto her elbow and pull her back onto her feet.

"Miss Granger, I presume."

Hermione pushed her bushy hair out of her eyes and looked up at the tall man who had saved her from making contact with the ground. She straightened instantly when she realized that this man had to be the Headmaster. She gave him a quick appraising look and was surprised to discover that such a young man held the lofty title of Headmaster to Durmstrang Academy. He couldn't be even forty, she decided. His hair was thick and full of a dusty blond color. He had dark, olive toned skin, brown eyes that were so dim they appeared almost black and thin lips that were twitched up at the corner in a friendly half smile.

"Miss Granger?" He asked again when she still hadn't responded.

"Yes." She snapped, her cheeks flushing with color when she realized she had been staring. "I am Hermione Granger."

The tall man extended his hand which Hermione instantly took to shake. "I am Headmaster Finn Zograf." He released her hand after a curt shake. "If you follow me I will take you to your room."

Hermione nodded as she took hold of one end of her trunk, and to her surprise the Headmaster took the other end.

As the odd pair began their journey to Hermione's accommodations she took the opportunity to take a good look at her surroundings. Unlike Hogwarts, whose walls were made up of a soft, smooth gray stone, Durmstrang's walls were of dark cheery wood, the kind of which is found in old manor houses. The furniture was thick and heavy and glistened under several coats of polish. The halls were dimly lit with chandeliers that hung from the ceiling periodically.

Headmaster Zograf lead her into the main entrance of the school. At one end of the atrium were thick double doors that kept the cold air outside from seeping into the building. On the opposite end was grand staircase that separated halfway up and curved around to the balcony that ran the length of the open atrium. There were several doors that lead off the balcony of which Hermione assumed went off to different parts of the school.

She stared around her with wonder. She was instantly enchanted with the warm, welcoming atmosphere of the school. Similar to Hogwarts it had paintings on the walls that waved at her welcomingly as she passed, chattering to her in a language she didn't understand.

As the trunk toting pair mounted the staircase to the second floor, Headmaster Zograf glanced back at her and saw the troubled furrowing of her brow. "Is there a problem Miss Granger?"

"Oh no." She assured the Headmaster. "I'm sure it will only take me short time to learn enough of the language to be getting on."

"Ohh." The Headmaster nodded his head with understanding. "How foolish of me to have forgotten." The tall man reached inside his heavy black robes and extracted a vile that glowed bright red. He hand it to her, instructing her to drink it. Looking warily at the vile in her hands and then the Headmaster she uncorked it and the sent of apple filled the air. "It's all right Miss Granger." He assured her. "I'm not trying to poison you." Finally seeing a twinkle in Zograf's eyes that reminded her distinctly of Dumbledore's she brought the container to her lips and gently tipped her head back letting the potion invade her mouth. Not only did it smell like apple, she realized, it tasted like the fruit as well. Moments after the sweet liquid slid down her throat she felt a tingling in the back of her brain. "How is that?" He asked when the tingling stopped.

"How is what?" Hermione asked with a perplexed scrunch to her brow.

The Headmaster chuckled softly. "Listen closely, Miss Granger." he instructed her. Hermione concentrated hard trying to hear what Zograf wanted her to hear. Her eyes grew bright as she suddenly understood. The portraits on the walls that had only moments ago been speaking what seemed to her as gibberish, were now speaking in full sentences that she understood. Her mouth dropped open in her excitement.

"How is that possible?"

The Headmaster chuckled again as he turned and continued his assent of the stairs. "It's really rather simple, Miss Granger. Similar to a memory charm really. Dumbledore and I had a talk before you arrived. We agreed that it would benefit both you and Rane Voitekh, your exchange partner, if you were able to understand your fellow students and teachers immediately. Otherwise you would be concentration on learning our language instead of your studies, and we just couldn't have that. After all your studies come first and foremost."

Hermione smiled with enthusiasm. "That's logical. Thank you Headmaster."

Zograf waved away her gratitude airily. "Think nothing of it." They reached the second landing and turned through the first door on their right. They continued down a long hallway lined with doors. "Unlike Hogwarts," He continued, "we do not have houses and common rooms. Every student has their own individual room complete with study area, bed and bathing facilities. The floors are divided by year. This is the third year floor."

They finally reached a stair case at the end of the long hallway and began their climb once again. "It's rather simple to navigate the dormitories. They fallow in sequential order. Fourth year, fifth year, sixth, seventh, first then second. A student keeps the same room the duration of their stay at our school."

Hermione listened intently as the Headmaster pointed out different points of interest during their climb to the sixth year floor. They reached the landing and walked down the hallway side be side with the trunk still suspended between them. Feeling like her arm was about to fall from the socket from the strain of towing her trunk this long way, she was grateful when the Headmaster finally came to a stop at the end of the corridor.

"All right, Miss Granger." Zograf set his end of the trunk on the ground. He turned to face her, the warm smile still on his lips. "The door is charmed to recognize your voice, password and hand imprint. Simply concentrate on a password and touch the handle. You will fee a gentle tingle in your palm. When the process is complete only you will be able to enter your dormitory, even if by chance another student here's your password."

Hermione nodded her understanding before she sucked in her bottom lip as she began to contemplate an appropriate password. Her mind ran speedily over all her options staring first with some of her favorite things like Hogwarts: A History, Chocolate Frogs, Hogwarts, Harry, Ron…no she shook her head at that thought. She refused to consider Ron amongst her favorite things. She sighed heavily. Even now she couldn't believe Ron had said that to her. Before the incident she wondered if perhaps the reason they fought so much was because…but no, that was quiet clear now. Any feelings she may or may not have had for Ron were gone.

Hermione shook her head once again forcing such unpleasant thoughts from her mind and focusing once more on a suitable password. At last it came to her. The thing that had originally brought them together. She took a deep breath concentrating on the large image in her brain as she stepped up to the door and grasped the handle. Mountain Troll, her brain said once again and she felt a gentle tingle in the palm of her hand. After several seconds the tingling eased and she pulled her hand away.

Zograf smiled as she looked to him for approval. She turned the handle of the door and it eased open. Stepping inside she gasped at the beauty of the room. The furniture was all heavy and dark but the room was surprisingly bright. There was a large four post bed that was pushed up against one wall complete with heavy white curtains and a thick white comforter. The floor was made of hardwood but had an inviting looking throw rug in the middle of it. There was a large desk at the far side of the room situated underneath a large expanse of window. To her left was one door which led to a small personal washroom complete with shower, toilet and sink. The rest of the left wall was covered completely in bookcase that ran from floor to ceiling.

Hermione squealed with delight as she ran into the room trying to take it all in. This was to be her own personal room. It was unbelievable. It had everything that she could possibly need during her stay. A desk large enough to hold all her schoolwork, plenty of shelf space for her books and a bed that looked to be quiet a bit larger then the bed she slept in at Hogwarts.

Running up to the window she looked outside to see what kind of view she had. She gasped when she saw that there was a mammoth lake that even in the dark she could see looked like it could go on forever. For a brief moment she wondered if it was as deep as the Hogwarts lake was legend to be.

"I gather then your find your room acceptable?"

Hermione spun around her face flushing pink. She had forgotten that the Headmaster had been right behind her. "Yes." She croaked out, her face growing even darker. "It's more than enough."

The Headmaster chuckled as he extracted a long, dark wood wand and pointed it at her trunk and proceeded to levitate it to the foot of her bed. After setting the trunk down Zograf turned to face his new pupil and laughed at the slightly annoyed look on her face, understanding completely. "I apologize, Miss Granger. Like yourself, I am Muggle born. Twenty-six years of being a wizard and I still forget every once in a while that I can use magic for such things.

Hermione's annoyance was quickly erased and she relaxed fully for the first time since arriving. It seemed to her that the Bulgarians must have decided after the dismal failure of the last Headmaster to choose someone perhaps for political reasons. It didn't do well for a school to have the reputation of having Dark Wizards as Headmasters and there was no fear of that with a Muggle born.

Zograf moved towards the door speaking over his shoulder to the young witch as he went. "I'll have your breakfast sent to your room tomorrow morning." He stopped in the doorway and turned around to face her. "Perhaps after you have finished your breakfast I could give you a tour of the castle so that you are not lost on Friday when classes start."

"That would be wonderful Headmaster." Hermione beamed.

The older wizard smiled back. "Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, Headmaster."

The door clicked closed and Hermione collapsed back on the bed, staring blankly at the canopy above her. This was all too unreal. Only days ago she had been sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room dreading the arrival of the other students for the simple fact that even now she didn't think she could face Ron. She sighed heavily. She knew she couldn't deny it. She had been falling for the great pratt. Falling, she snorted, fallen. She was in love with him which made his betrayal that much more painful. Never would she have believed that that word would ever pass his lips. Hadn't he been the one to try and defend her when Malfoy had used it? A single tear slid down her cheek.

Yes, she had been dreading facing Ron but now she didn't have to. Dumbledore had given her a way out. Within days she had packed her trunk and portkeyed away. Looking around her she decided that she had definitely made the right decision. It would be good for her. She could experience something new, learn things she never would have had the chance to at Hogwarts, hopefully make some new friends, maybe even Viktor would stop and see her. But most of all she hoped that in the time she had here she would find a way to get over Ron Weasley.


	3. Rane Voitekh

Chapter 3: Rane Voitekh

The train ride from Platform Nine and Three Quarters to Hogwarts had been long, depressing and quiet. Ron stared out the window at the passing country side arms crossed over his chest as if he were in pain, his face disturbingly blank. He had hardly spoken since the day of the incident. Since the day Harmony had left without saying a word to him. When asked questions he would nod or shake his head when he could, and said hardly more then two or three words when he had too. He kept mostly to himself, spending most of him time up in the attic in the spot where Hermione and Harry had sat and had that earth shattering conversation that he had over heard. His depression had cast a shadow over the house causing the other occupants to be gloomy even when not in his presences. It was almost as if they felt they had no right to be happy when he was so miserable.

His mood had the same affect over the other occupants in the car. Harry and Ginny, who were sitting across from each other, cast furtive looks at each other or at Ron. Several times they opened their mouths to speak and break the grating silence but always snapped them shut before they could utter a word.

Neville sat with his nose buried deep in the pages of his book trying desperately to escape the tension and silence that gripped the small space. Unusually observant he noticed immediately Hermione's absence but seeing the look on Ron's face had stopped him from mentioning anything for the duration of the ride. He decided he would ask either Harry or Ginny when they sat down for the feast or when they reached the common room. Until then he was determined to ignore the strain and read.

Luna on the other hand seemed completely oblivious to the awkward silence permeating the car. She sat relaxed in her seat, her face hidden behind the newest addition of the _Quibler_, her wand stuck haphazardly over her ear. Harry, Ginny and Neville all envied her ability at the moment to be oblivious to what was around them.

The atmosphere was so bad that even Draco, when he stopped by their car halfway through the journey, didn't stay long. As he slid open the door to the car Ron turned for the first time towards the sound breaking the silence. His eyes narrowed instantly at the sight of the scrawny boy with the ugly sneer on his face. Ron's own quickly morphed from indifference to a look of pure hatred so intense that it took Draco back a few steps in surprise.

The white haired boy looked about the car and noticed that Hermione was not sitting with them. He hadn't seen her earlier at the prefects meeting and had to admit his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Seeing that she wasn't in the car with the rest of her friends brought an evil gleam to his eyes as he finally understood the scowl that marred Ron's features.

Knowing that no words were needed he smirked at Ron raising his brows in mockery before he turned and left the car laughing maliciously as the door slid closed.

Ron watched the back of his head with narrowed eyes until he disappeared from view, then turned and slammed his solid fist into the wall with a sinking thud before leaning his brow against the cold pane of glass that was the window and let this mind go and stare blankly at the pacing landscape once more.

After what felt like forever the train came to a stop at the Hogsmead station and the students began to pile out. Neville gathered his belongings as quickly as he could and fled the car while Luna followed soon after, a dreamy look plastered on her sweet face.

Harry and Ginny watched as Ron moved mechanically gathering his own trunk and the cage that held Pig before exiting the car. The silent pair looked after him a moment then followed, Ginny pulling her own trunk and toting Crookshank's carrying basket and Harry his trunk and Hedwig's cage. The three of them climbed into the carriage along with Neville and Luna, Neville's face sinking slightly at the sight of Ron. Again he sat silently and stared out the window as the carriage lurched into motion and made its way towards Hogwarts castle.

Harry and Ginny sighed when the castle came into view. The fact that they were that much closer meant that the Hogwarts Opening feast was that much sooner, a prospect that always cheered Ron up in the past. It was something that they both knew he looked foreword to all summer.

As soon as they rolled to a stop in front of the massive stone steps leading to the main entrance of the castle they disembarked the carriage and rushed up the short flight, eager to get out of the biting wind. The group let out a collective sigh once through the doors as the warmth of the castle started to ease the cold out of their bodies. As soon as they were warmed Harry nodded towards the Great Hall and they all began to move towards it.

"Mr. Potter. Miss Weasley. If you'll wait a moment?"

The group stopped at the sound of McGonagall's stern voice. They all turned. Ginny groaned almost audibly. How on earth could that have gotten into trouble already? McGonagall rolled her eyes at the unflattering sound.

"You may relax Miss Weasley. You're not in trouble. At least not yet." Her eyes settled on Harry as she said this. After Harry had the decency to flush slightly, McGonagall looked over his and Ginny's shoulders to Ron, Neville and Luna who had stopped as well. "You three can continue on to the Great Hall. Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley will join you shortly." The stern faced teacher waited until the three students had disappeared into the Great Hall before instructing Harry and Ginny to follow her.

Silently the trio worked their way through the silent, familiar halls of the school until they reached McGonagall's office. She ushered them inside and closed the door directing them to take a seat before she took her own.

She stared pointedly at the two observing that Harry looked calm and resigned while Ginny squirmed anxiously in anticipation, uncertain as to why she had been called to her Head's office minutes after arriving.

"I imagine, Mr. Potter, that you have some idea as to why I've called you both here." It was a statement not a question though Harry nodded as if it were. McGonagall nodded and opened a drawer in her desk. "Miss Granger was provided with a portkey incase of an emergency and this," she said handing Harry an oblong sheet of glass identical to Hermione's, " is the way that the Headmaster has decided that you can communicate with her."

Harry took the sheet of glass and held it up to his face cringing slightly. It held an odd and painful resemblance to the mirror that Sirius had given him last year. Ginny saw the look on his face, a look that she knew by now could only be contributed to thoughts of Sirius and reached to take Harry's hand comfortingly. He accepted her touch, giving her hand a squeeze back.

McGonagall saw the small exchange but choose to ignore it. "You activate the mirror by tapping it with your wand. The mirror in Miss Granger's possession will glow blue as will yours if she wishes to contact you. All she need do to activate her mirror is tap her wand to the glass. You may then speak freely without fear of being over heard."

Harry nodded and slipped the oblong piece into his pocket.

"Excuse me, Professor." Ginny's hesitant voice broke the congenial silence. "But what exactly is going on? Where is Hermione? And why does Harry need a mirror to communicate with her?"

"The mirror is not just for Mr. Potter," McGonagall corrected. "It is for you to use as well by Miss Grangers request." The older witch ducked her head down again and riffled through her drawer extracting two envelopes addressed in Hermione's crisp, clean handwriting. McGonagall extended the two letters towards the teenagers. "Miss Granger left these to explain everything." As soon as the letters were in the hands of Harry and Ginny, McGonagall rose to her feet. "You may stay here and read them before joining us at the feast. I however must go and perform the sorting ceremony." And with that she walked briskly towards the door closing it firmly behind her.

Harry, already knowing most of the contents of Hermione's letter, tore his open almost bored. He had resigned himself weeks ago to the fact that Hermione was not going to be here when he got back. Studying in Bulgaria was too big of a learning experience for Hermione to pass up. He also knew that the breach between his two best friends was another reason that she had fled the country.

He sighed resignedly. Those two were impossible. He knew for a fact that Ron was mad about Hermione, had been for years though he himself didn't realize it. If there had been any doubt what so ever in Harry's mind it had been alleviated over the past three weeks.

Harry scanned over the letter his scowl deepening. And it seemed Hermione, who he normally would have considered to be the more intelligent of his two friends, was being horribly foolish at the moment. He threw the letter down on the table wishing he could set it a blaze. Inside she had described her reasons for leaving, all of which Harry already knew. But much to his irritation she has also requested that neither he nor Ginny tell Ron about the mirror.

Harry looked over at Ginny who was also scowling at Hermione's letter. He imagined it had been along the same line as his own. Her brown eyes blazed with furry as she rose to her feet and started pacing the room.

"I can't believe she did this." The red haired girl growled to herself. "Inconsiderate and rude. It's not like her. Doesn't she have any idea what this is doing to him? I aught to give her a piece of my mind."

"Ginny."

The young girl whirled around at the sound of his voice. "What about you Harry? Aren't you upset? Not only did she run away from Ron she ran away from you. She's not even allowing him a way to speak to her." She ragged. "I never imagined Hermione of all people would do something like this." Ginny turned and continued to stride up and down the length of McGonagall's office ranting in her furry.

While Harry's eyes were watching her progress he reached inside his pocket and extracted the mirror. He tapped it once with his wand and it glowed a soft white. Less then a minute later the glowing ceased and Hermione's face appeared in the smooth surface.

"Hi Harry. It's wonderful to see you." Hermione greeted brightly.

Ginny stopped ranting at the sound of her friend's voice and came to stand behind Harry. "Hermione." She greeted coldly.

Hermione's face instantly fell at the cold looks she was receiving from both Harry and Ginny. "Please." She pleaded softly. "Don't look at me that way. You understand why I had to come, don't you?"

Harry stared at her contemplatively for several agonizingly long seconds. "I think you're making a big mistake." He finally said. "Not about going to Durmstrang," he continued before she could protest, he could understand her reasons for wanting to go. "I understand that decision. However I think it's very wrong the way you left things with Ron. If you…"

"Harry please." She stopped him, her eyes welling with tears. "You of all people should understand." She gnawed hard on her lower lip. "I just needed to get away."

"But Hermione," Ginny interceded, "you're not even giving him a way to talk to you. How are you supposed to mend things if you won't speak to him?"

Harry and Ginny watched as she turned her head ashamedly to the side. "Will you promise me not to tell him about the mirror?"

"Hermione." They both objected.

"Harry. Ginny. Please…I'm begging you. Will you do this for me?"

After several minutes of silence in which Hermione thought for sure that they were going to refuse they looked to each other and Ginny nodded slightly.

"Yes Hermione." Harry turned back to the mirror. "We promise."

"Thank you." she beamed at them through the glass. "It really means a lot to me."

"Yeah, yeah." Ginny waved aside her gratitude. "Now that you've rung that out of us, what's it like? How do you like the school? Are the student's nice? Have you met any dashing blokes?"

Hermione's musical laughter came through the glass. "You're incorrigible, Ginny. You know that right?"

The red haired girl beamed at her friend. "Of course I do."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Listen. I have a lot of homework I have to do and you two have a feast to get to. It was wonderful to see you. I miss you both already."

"We miss you too, Hermione." Harry's voice was slightly chocked. Without hesitation Ginny rested her hand on Harry's shoulder giving it a light squeeze.

"We'll talk to you later then," Ginny smiled assumingly at the glass, "as soon as we can."

"Goodnight." Hermione called before the glass went blank and started to glow white again. Harry gave it a tap with his wand and it eased into the smooth surface free of reflection once again.

"Well," Ginny tossed her bright copper hair over her shoulder. "I imagine there's a feast that isn't waiting for us."

Harry nodded and the two left the room, Harry slipping the mirror into his pocket as they exited.

Down in the Great Hall the feast had indeed already begun when Harry and Ginny arrived. They took the two seats that Ron and Neville had saved for them and began loading food onto their plates, neither of them looking at Ron for fear that their faces would be filled with pity, something they both knew he would not appreciate.

"So," Neville started when the two settled and began shoveling food into their mouths. "What did McGonagall want?"

Both Harry and Ginny's heads snapped up to look at him before they turned and looked at each other then finally at Ron who was looking at them with the first sign of interest that either of them had seen in days, which made it even the more difficult for Harry to mumble, "I'll tell you later, Neville."

Ron's brow furrowed as he watched Harry and Ginny squirm under his gaze. "No." He said slowly, setting his fork and knife down beside his plate before pushing it away as if the sight of the succulent food nauseated him. "Why don't you tell him now?"

Harry avoided Ron's eyes by continuing to shovel more food into his mouth while Ginny couldn't help but look over at him in sympathy as she feared she would. Ron's face dropped in understanding.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry's neck shrunk into his shoulders. "Harry." Ron said again, his voice low and insistent. "Where is she? And who is that girl sitting between Lavender and Parvati?" He pointed down the table directing Harry's gaze to a very beautiful girl with dark toned skin, large bright amber eyes, and long black hair that hung to her waist in a wavy sheet. She was a slight girl whose every movement was filled with grace and poise.

Harry coughed in the back of his throat and opened his mouth to speak but instead shoveled in another mouthful of food at the last moment. Ron's eyes narrowed further at Harry's avoidance of the question. Just when he was about to demand answers from either Ginny or Harry, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the head of the Great Hall directing everyone's attention to the front. Harry sighed with relief when Ron was forced to let him be so that he could focus on what the Headmaster had to say.

Dumbledore smiled over the crowd waiting until they had all gone quiet. When he spoke his voice boomed out over the hushed mass. "Welcome once again to another year at Hogwarts. I know most of you are tired of hearing me drivel on every year but I fear I must once again, to the benefit of our first year students and perhaps some of our older students," Harry distinctly saw Dumbledore's twinkling eyes look at him, "who let it slip out of their heads over the summer. The Dark Forest continues to be strictly forbidden to all students. Magic is not to be done in the corridors between classes. And finally, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the list of contraband items is posted outside of his office for anyone who cares to take notice. Now that that is over with," he clapped his hands together as if excited, "some of you may have noticed a few new faces in out mists as well as a few missing. First I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Darcie Donavan."

A small woman sitting next to Professor Snape stood up. She was short in stature, appearing to be about the same height as Hermione. She was quiet young and very beautiful with pale white skin, bright blue eyes and blond hair that was cropped close to her scalp and done up so that it looked surprisingly similar to Harry's, though Harry decided she could pull the look off far better then he ever could. Her full pink lips separated and she flashed the crowd with a charming, straight toothed, achingly bright smile. Many of the students, most pointedly the male students, clapped feverishly as she bowed in greeting before sinking back into her seat.

Dumbledore, who had been clapping along with everyone else turned back to the students holding up his bony hands in an attempt to quiet them. He waited patiently until their enthusiastic clapping died before speaking once again.

"I would also like to make an announcement that affects some of you more then others. This year I have agreed for an exchange to take place between Durmstrang Academy and Hogwarts. As some of you may have noticed," Dumbledore's soft blue eyes settled on Ron, "Miss Hermione Granger is not with us this evening." Murmuring burst out amongst the crowd as several of the older students noticed for the first time that the Golden Trio, as they had been dubbed many years ago, was not complete. Hermione Granger was suddenly blaringly absent amongst her friends. "Nor will she be with us for the remainder of the school year." Ron and Harry both glared when they heard a whoop of joy come from Draco Malfoy and the rest of his cronies at the Slytherin table. Dumbledore ignored their outburst and continued with his introduction. "Miss Granger was specially selected to be our representative to our Bulgarian neighbors this year. We wish her great success." Dumbledore and most of the teachers clapped, prompting most of the student body, excluding the Slytherins of course, to clap as well.

"Now that we have that settled I would like to introduce Miss Granger's exchange partner. Miss Rane Voitekh, who will be joining Gryffindor house for the school year." Ron's eyes instantly narrowed to a glare aimed at the beautiful girl now standing and waving, slightly flustered, at the crowd. "I hope you will all strive to make Miss Voitekh feel welcome during her stay."

When the clapping had once again died down and Dumbledore returned to his seat to eat his pudding, Ron turned his narrowed eyes on Harry and Ginny. "Hermione's in Bulgaria!" Harry flushed pink at the accusation in Ron's voice as if it were his fault she were gone. "Hermione is in Bulgaria?" He said again unable to believe the truth of the statement. "She left without saying goodbye? You both knew and you didn't tell me!"

"We only just found out, Ron." Ginny cried, trying her best to calm her angered brother. "That's why McGonagall pulled us aside. Hermione left letters to us explaining…"

"She left letters?" Ron's blue eyes lost a bit more of their sparkle when the full impact of what Ginny had said sunk in. "She left you and Harry letters, but not a single word for me?"

Not knowing what to say Harry and Ginny just stared at him feeling wretched at having received letters when he had not. Without waiting for a response from either his best friend or his sister Ron rose from the table and walked stonily towards the door.

Upon catching sight of Ron leaving the Great Hall, alone, Draco Malfoy hurried after him, Crabbe and Goyle following close behind. They reached the massive double doors seconds after Ron slipped through.

"Oy! Weasle!" Draco called after Ron upon reaching the hall. "What has you so melancholy?" Ron did his best to ignore Draco and keep walking, his shoulders hunched over dramatically. "Could it be that you miss your filthy Mudblood?" Ron flinched at the word as if it had caused him pain, for indeed in a way it had. "What? Did you two have a row? Let me guess…" Draco snickered at Ron's back. "You finally got up the nerve to tell her your filthy little secret and she was so repulsed she had to run all the way to Bulgaria to get away from you." Crabbe and Goyle laughed along with Malfoy as Ron disappeared on the upper landing. "It's pathetic really," Draco called after him, "the way you pine over a Mudblood like her."

The three Slytherins burst into a fit of laughter that did not end until Draco felt a slight tap on his shoulder. He turned only to be confronted by the full impact of a fist on his nose. He heard a loud crack and blood started spilling down his face, dripping of his chin and staining his new robes.

"You leave my brother alone." Ginny snapped, drawing back to slug him again but was stopped by Harry who placed a hand on her shoulder at the same time pointing his wand at the three Slytherins.

"You lot better get a move on."

Crabbe and Goyle glared at him as they followed Malfoy, who was pressing the sleeve of his robe to his nose, taking the stairs two at a time toward the hospital wing.

As soon as the three boys disappeared from sight Ginny stamped her foot angrily on the floor. She growled fiercely "Those three make me so mad. I swear, before the end of the year, I am going to do something drastic to them. I'm…"

"Ginny," Harry stopped her before she could continue her tirade. "Let's just go check on Ron."

The red haired girl nodded and followed Harry to the common room. Upon gaining entrance they found Ron sitting in one of the three chairs near the fire that had become the trio's chairs over the years.

"I really messed up big this time." He muttered without looking up. "She left without even saying goodbye." Ron lifted his head revealing the disheartening sight of his blue eyes swimming with tears. It was hard for both Harry and Ginny to see. Ron was always the strong one, refusing to show any weakness. Harry couldn't think of a single time in all the years that he had known him that he could remember ever having seen Ron cry. Ginny, who had literally known him all her life, was having trouble doing the same.

Ron ran his hands through the thick waves of his fire red hair, making it look even more disheveled then it normally was. "I love her, you know?" Ron snorted as Harry and Ginny took the two remaining seats. "I know that's hard to believe after what I called her. But…she knew what she was doing when she called me weasel and pauper. She knew and she still said it." His eyelids blinked rapidly. "That's why I said what I did. She purposefully hurt me so I said what I knew would hurt her the most." Silent tears slid down his face. "I would give anything to go back and change that."

Harry lifted his head, turning towards the portrait hole when he heard the gentle hum of voices drawing nearer. Knowing that Ron would be embarrassed if anyone caught him crying Harry got quickly to his feet and pulled on Ron's arm. "Come on mate. The feast is over. Let's get you to bed."

Ron didn't even protest when Harry pulled him to his feet and directed him towards the stairs to the boy's dormitory. Upon reaching their room Ron went to work silently getting ready for bed. After pulling on his pajamas and brushing his teeth he climbed under the covers and waited for Harry to do the same. As soon as his best mate was settled, Ron turned over and looked at him. "Thanks mate." He said with a scratchy voice.

Harry turned his head to the side and smiled sadly at the boy who was closer to him then a brother. "Don't even think about it mate. That's what friends are for."

Ron nodded and turned over onto his back pulling the curtains closed around him. He stared up at the ceiling feeling acutely the heavy wait on his heart. This time when the tears came they flowed swiftly and silently.


	4. Astoundingly Close Assesments

Chapter 4: Astoundingly Close Assessments

Hermione had been absolutely delighted to discover that the Durmstrang library was even bigger and more extensive then the library found at Hogwarts. It was filled with hundreds of thousands of books on any subject in any subcategory that a student could possibly want. Hermione was in her element. Where before she had been frustrated at the lack of material for cross referencing, at the Durmstrang facility she found there was enough material that she could cross reference as many ideas for as many times as she wished. To her thinking it was spectacular.

That's where Hermione was two weeks into the term, sitting in the library several stacks of books in front of her so high that she couldn't see over them even when standing. She was working on an Advanced Transfiguration essay, even though it wasn't due for another week, when the stack of books sitting in front of her suddenly moved and a smiling face appeared in the gap. Hermione looked up in surprise and couldn't help but smile back when the girl who was staring at her stuck out her hand forcefully waiting for her to take it.

When Hermione reached out and accepted her hand the girls face split into an even brighter smile. She shook Hermione's hand vigorously. "My name is Ester Mostich." She greeted warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ester. My name is Hermione Granger."

"I know." The girl shrugged her shoulders as she sank into the seat across from her. "Everyone knows who you are."

Hermione's brow furrowed slightly. "Why is that?"

Ester rolled her soft hazel eyes, a slight smirk on her lips. "You're friends with Harry Potter, no?"

"Yes," Hermione's eyes narrowed further, "that's right."

The girl nodded. "Yes and Viktor talked about you all the time when he got back from the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

Hermione's eyes lit with delight. "You know Viktor?"

Ester rolled her eyes again but more exaggerated and playful this time. "Who doesn't know Viktor? School champion, star Quiditch player, handsome devil. Trust me I know him."

Hermione's smile lit up her face, allowing it to reach the outskirts of her eyes, something that hadn't happened in well over a month.

Ester crossed her hands on the table and stared at Hermione intently. Her eyes scrunched for a moment before her slightly glossed lips parted to ask. "Why have you been so unhappy?"

Hermione started with surprise. She had not been expecting someone she had only just met to be so upfront and blunt with her, prying in to her private life so freely.

"What makes you think I've been unhappy?" She asked wearily, shifting the papers in front of her to look busy and to hide her frayed nerves.

Ester tipped her head to the side to better look at her. "I've been watching you, Hermione. You don't smile very often and when you do it doesn't reach your eyes." She stated bluntly and resignedly. "You burry yourself in your books as if you can hide yourself behind them." She nodded to the large stack that she had moved aside as if to make a point. "You have the look about you of someone who is lost and alone and unsure of where to go next."

Hermione eased back slightly, a little unnerved at Ester's astoundingly close assessment. "Well I did just leave the only home I've ever known to come and study in a foreign country." She tried half heartedly.

Ester shook her head adamantly. "That's not it and you know. You have _that _look."

Leaning forward slightly with interest she asked, "What look?"

Ester frowned faintly. "The look of a person who just lost someone very important to them, possibly quiet suddenly."

Instantly an image of Ron's laughing face flashed before her eyes. Hermione's mouth gapped open as she stared at the girl in astonishment. "How did you know that?"

Ester shrugged a shoulder dismissively. "Call it a gift." She picked a book up off one of the many stacks and flipped the cover open, absently skimming over the title page. "So who was it?"

Hermione swallowed audibly. She didn't know why but she had the sudden urge to spill her soul to this girl that she had only met for the first time a few short minutes ago. While Hermione's mind was screaming for her to keep her mouth shut she instead followed her gut. By the look in Ester's soft hazel eyes Hermione had the feeling that they had the potential to become great friends.

Taking a deep breath she said. "His name is Ron. He's been one of my best friends for the past five years. But recently he has come to mean more to me then that."

"You loved him." Ester said bluntly snapping the book shut. "It's all right, Hermione." She assured seeing the look on the English girl's face. "You don't have to tell me anymore."

The two girls sat there a moment in silence. Hermione knew she should be affronted by Ester's bluntness but found instead that it was rather refreshing, and she couldn't help but feel that she already liked her. With a final smile Ester looked away and gave an appraising look to the stacks of books surrounding the bushy haired girl and chuckled softly as she set the book she had rifled through back in its place at the top of the stack. "Is studying all you ever do?"

"No." Hermione denied quickly her cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. "Studying is not the only thing I do." She had to admit though, she had been studying more then normal. But really, without having any friends to talk to, or a dangerous mystery to figure out, or Prefect duties, she had so much more time on her hands that she didn't know what to do with herself. So she did the only think she knew, and that happened to be school work.

Ester arched a sculpted eyebrow. "Really? Because that's all anyone's seen you do since you got here two weeks ago."

Hermione pinched her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked at the massive pile of books surrounding her. "Have I really been that bad?"

Ester laughed as she rose from the table extending her hand out to Hermione. "Come on. I'll introduce you to my friends."

Hermione slowly rose to her feet gathering her belongings and stuffing them into her school bag. "Really?"

Ester chuckled at her uncertainty. "Of course. Come on." As soon as Hermione finished packing away her work, Ester took her hand and began towing her out of the library looking back over her shoulder as she went. "None of us study in there any more." She explained. "The younger years start to get on your nerves after a while." Hermione hated to admit it but Ester was right. For a reason unknown to her, students didn't feel the same need to keep quiet in the library here like they did back at Hogwarts. So while Hermione was pleased and impressed at the book selection she couldn't help but wish that she was back in the silent nook deep inside the Hogwarts library that she had claimed for her own.

Ester pulled her down one of the long corridors leading away from the library, took a right at the end and went up a short flight of stairs to a wing that went off on its own. This corridor was lined with many doors some of which were open. As she was being tugged past Hermione glanced inside and saw that the rooms reminded her greatly of the Gryffindor common room. Each one had a fire place set into the far wall with arm chairs and sofa's set before it. There was also plenty of working space in each room. Tables with chairs gathered around them pushed up against the walls, and big areas of open space on the floor for doing large projects. The room's looked quiet comfortable in Hermione's opinion and she wished she would have discovered them sooner.

Ester looked back at Hermione and seeing the look on the bushy haired girls face she smiled. "This is where most of the older students go to work." She explained as she came to a stop outside a closed door at the end of the corridor. "This is the room my friends and I use." Turning away from Hermione she turned the handle on the door and pushed it open to reveal four other students scattered comfortably around the room.

Upon hearing the door open the occupants looked up from their work, curious expressions on their faces. Ester smiled and pulled Hermione into the room before closing the door. The two boys, who had been lounging in armchairs before the fire, stood immediately upon seeing Hermione. Ester giggled and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "Those two." She rolled her eyes. "Always the gentlemen for a new pretty face." She turned back pinning a mock scowl on her face as she met the two teenage boys. "Why don't you ever do that for me?"

The boys glanced at each other, than at her and the one on the left who was taller, by at least a head than the one on the right shrugged dismissively and said, "Because we know you." As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And with that the boy stepped forward, hand extended.

As he walked towards her, Hermione looked him over. He was very tall with trim muscles. On the top of his head was hair so black it looked like the purest ink. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the way his hair laid flat. Harry would be so envious. He had large friendly blue eyes that twinkled mischievously along with the lopsided grin that covered his face.

When he finally reached her she put her hand in his and was surprised when he lifted it to his lips and let them graze her knuckle briefly. "It is a pleasure, Miss Granger." He said lowering her hand and returning from his slight bow to his full height. "My name is Yorick Boril."

Hermione smiled up at the tall boy who stood at least a head and a half taller then her. She couldn't help but be affected by his warm smile and welcoming gaze. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yorick. But please call me Hermione."

Yorick's smile grew ever brighter as he released her hand. "Welcome to Durmstrang, _Hermione_."

Ester who had been watching this with raised brow shook her head as she pushed Yorick gently to the side. "There's time enough for that later." She murmured in his ear, "Perhaps when your girlfriend isn't in the room." She suggested nodding her head behind her while giving him a final push before she slipped her arms through Hermione's pulling her farther into the room. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

By this time the other three occupants had clustered in the open space in the middle of the room. Of the three only one did not smile welcomingly in return, but scowled threateningly. She must be Yorick's girlfriend, Hermione decided. Smiling warmly at the girl, Hermione gave her head a firm but subtle shake letting the other girl know that she had no designs on her boyfriend. Understanding Hermione's assurance and feeling instantly less threatened she smiled as well while Ester introduced her.

Her name was Maj Irnik. She had a stout but trim frame as well as enviously generous curves that were displayed to perfection in the uniform that Hermione realized she must have altered herself. Unlike the uniform that fit Hermione like a potato sack, Maj's was tailored to impeccably, displaying her attributes tastefully. Her dark brown tresses were gathered at the top of her head in a messy bun with wisps of hair that fell and framed her honey brown eyes. Her thin lips were turned up at the corner, and her oval shaped face was free of any blemishes.

The girl to the right of her was introduced as Thora Rasate. Unlike Maj she had bright strawberry-blond hair that hung around her face in tame ringlets, the kind of which made Hermione jealous. Her amber eyes glowed with friendliness and warmth. She was slim and tall, perhaps even a bit taller than Yorick, but did not look gawky. Instead she looked like she moved with fluency and grace.

Lastly they came to the other boy. He had a mass of sandy blond hair that he let grow about his ears slightly shaggy. There was a smacking of light stubble on his chin and cheeks that while looking slightly unkempt, gave him a rather dashing, roguish look. His warm gray eyes stared down at her with open friendliness and admiration that caused a slight flush to mar Hermione's smooth, pale cheeks. He had a strong dominant nose, pale skin and lips that always seemed to have a smile on them. Like she had noticed, he was shorter then Yorick, but what he lacked in height he made up for with his breadth. Hermione was quiet certain that while he was not fat, he was so wide she couldn't fit her arms around his chest even if he sucked in.

He extend his hand and waited until Hermione placed her own in his. Very slowly he drew it up to his lips like Yorick had done and whispered. "Bjorn Ivailo."

"Hermione Granger." She whispered back when his lips grazed her knuckles, lingering there longer then necessary.

Ester stared at the two with narrowed eyes and slightly pursed lips until Bjorn straightened to his full height once more releasing Hermione's hand, letting it drop limply to her side.

As soon as the greetings were through Maj wrapped her arm through Hermione's, determined to set aside her initial misginvings, and pulled her towards one of the sofas placed near to the fire. "I'm so glad Ester convinced you to come out of the library." She sank into the soft cushions pulling Hermione down with her. "We've been trying to talk to you for over a week now but you're either busy paying attention in class," something Hermione could tell deeply annoyed her, "doing homework in the library or locked away in your room. So finally we decided we just had to go and pull you away."

Hermione gave the small group around her a very perplexed look. "B-but why?" She asked with evident confusion. No one, not even Ron and Harry, had gone out of their way to befriend her before. Well except perhaps for maybe Viktor Krum.

"Well." Thora sank down on the other side of Hermione. "My cousin speaks very highly of you." She shrugged a dainty shoulder. "After all these years of hearing Viktor talk about you I decided I had to meet you, and everyone else agreed."

Comprehension lit Hermione's eyes. She turned to Ester a single brow arched. "I think you knew him a little better then you let on."

Ester shrugged dismissively. "Oh well. That's not really important is it?"

Bjorn and Yorick sank into the two armchairs while Ester perched herself on the arm of Bjorn's seat, resting her arm along the back. Yorick leaned back in his chair in a relaxed, very masculine pose, crossing one ankle over the other knee.

"So Hermione, when did you learn to speak Bulgarian so well?"

Hermione settled into her own seat getting herself comfortable. "Viktor has taught me a few phrases over the years, but not enough to speak fluently. No, actually Headmaster Zograf gave me a potion that allows me to understand and speak fluently any language that I hear."

The group's eyes widened with intrigue.

"Really?" Bjorn cast a mischievous glance about the group. "I think that's a potion that we might have to try out."

"Bjorn." Maj seethed through her teeth casting a pointed look at Hermione. "Not here." She warned.

Hermione snorted, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You don't need to worry about me." She assured the now uncomfortable and slightly uneasy group. "My friends Ron, Harry and I brewed a Polyjuice Potion second year." The eyes watching her widened even further in admiration as mouths dropped open in shock.

"Second year?" Thora gasped. "I'm a sixth year and I can't even due that."

Hermione blushed prettily and Bjorn's eyes narrowed on her in speculation. "You brewed it yourself, didn't you?"

Her skin darkened even more until she was as bright as a fresh tomato. "Well honestly." She cried feeling uncomfortable with his open admiration. "I couldn't very well have Harry or Ron do it. They would have poisoned us."

The group of five stared at her a moment before bursting out into ruckus laughter. Maj slapped her affectingly on the back. "I think I'm going to like you Granger."

Harry did not like the change that had taken over his best friend. True he spoke more often then he did at the end of the holiday but still only when a question or comment was directed to him and an answer was expected. This annoyed Harry as well as Ron's sudden new dedication to homework. Harry had never seen him as devoted to his studies as he had been this term. He actually paid attention in class, taking extensive notes, asking questions and giving answers, much to Harry's consternation. Because with Ron so focused on the teachers and his lessons he was less focused on Harry. It almost felt like fourth year all over again. He spent a good portion of his time in the library and because of this finished most of his assignments on the day that they were assigned as opposed to the night before they were due, effectively leaving Harry alone to work on them until late the night before. His appetite had suffered greatly as well. Ron barley finished one helping of food each meal, which remained unnoticed by many. But sometimes he even went without his pudding, which was something every one noticed because the youngest Weasley son had a notorious sweet tooth.

Ron just wasn't himself anymore and everyone missed him. Harry most of all. Ron never joked around anymore and the only time they saw him smile was very briefly during Quiditch or after he had won a spectacular game of chess. And so Harry, Ginny and the other Gryffindors found themselves playing the game more often then they ever had in the past for the simple reward of seeing him smile.

Ron's new attitude left most of the school perplexed. How was it that someone who had been so relaxed and easy going in the past could change so much over just a few short months? No one was blind to the fact that Ron missed Hermione, but they were also well aware that there was something else the matter with him and no one but Harry and Ginny knew what it was. And much to everyone's exasperation and annoyance, they weren't talking.

The mystery around Ron's personality change was a common topic of conversation now. Everyone was curious as to what had happened to him. Even more perplexing was his strange aversion to the exchange student, Rane Voitekh, whom most of the school was lining up to be friends with. But Ron was different. He never talked to her. He avoided meeting her gaze at all costs and spent as little time in the same room as her as possible. Which was why, Harry knew, Ron had been spending so much time in the library. It was a place that Rane hardly ever frequented the Gryffindor common room being her study area of choice.

The two boys were walking down the darkened hallway one night on their way back from studying in said library, there way being lit by torches placed in scones periodically along the wall. As they walked Harry filled Ron in on his plans for the upcoming weeks Quidith practices. Harry knew Ron wasn't listening but merely grunting or agreeing with him occasionally so that he gave the appearance that he was. Harry found himself growing more and more annoyed with his best mate with each uncommitted grunt.

"Yeah so…" Harry glanced at Ron out of the corner of his eye. "Since you've been off in your own little world the past month and a half Ginny and I have been spending more and more time together," which was true "… and…" Harry's eyes gleamed maliciously. If anything could get his best mates attention it was the topic of his little sister's love life. "I thought you'd like to know that I've a…that I've _shagged_ her."

"Hmmm." Ron nodded his head absently.

"Yes." Harry went on, exaggerating more when that hadn't gotten a rise out of his friend. "I just couldn't help myself. She's turned into a right pretty girl, all tall and leggy." Harry didn't know where this was coming from but thought it sounded quiet good. "I couldn't help myself, mate. So I've shagged her. I've shagged her long and hard. All over the castle in many an … interesting position."

"That's nice." Ron said absently.

"So I just thought I would let you know that I got her pregnant and we're getting married." He clapped Ron forcefully on the back, causing him to stumble a step.

"That's great… Wait." Ron reached out suddenly to grip Harry's shirt, bringing him to a sudden stop. Harry was pleased to see that Ron's hand was at least shaking. "Did you say you got someone pregnant?"

Harry rolled his dark green eyes. "_That_ you pick up on? Good lord, Ron, did you not here anything else I just said?" Harry raised his brow in challenge.

"Of course I did." Ron turned away in annoyance.

Harry crossed his arms. "Really? What did I say?"

"That you got someone pregnant."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he asked. "Did you by chance here _who_ the lucky lady was?"

"No." Ron looked over at him. "You didn't really…did you?" there was evident anxiety in his voice as well as a touch of awe.

"No," Harry assured his friend, resting his hand comradely on his shoulder. "Who in the bloody hell would I have shagged?" The redhead shrugged. Harry sighed. "I was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You've been walking around like a corpse for the past month and half."

Ron shrugged his hand off and continued walking down the hall.

"Ron, you can't keep avoiding this." Harry called after the redheads retreating back.

"Bugger off, Harry. I don't want to talk about it."

His own anger rising, Harry strode quickly after his friend, took hold oh his arm and spun him around forcing Ron to look at him. "Listen mate, I understand. I really do. I know you miss her. I miss her too. And I know you feel wretched about what you called her. But at _this_ moment there is nothing you can do about it. _Hermione is gone_," Harry shook him once when he tried to look away. "Hermione's gone, Ron," he released the taller boy's shoulders dejectedly, "and so are you."

"What are you talking about?" Ron's face was for once his familiar mask of confusion.

Harry sighed heavily. "I miss my best mate." He said evenly. "I miss the bloke who without trying to, could made me laugh. The bloke who could smile at a girl, any girl it didn't matter who, and make her go weak in the knees without even knowing that he was doing it. I miss the bloke who got angry when others insulted him and his friends and who stood up for what he thought was right. "

"Harry…"

"I don't know what to tell you, Ron. I can't fix what's wrong between you and Hermione but I really would like to have my best mate back."

Harry left Ron standing alone in the hall staring almost blindly out the nearby window. After several minutes he made his way towards the common room giving the Fat Lady the password and stepping inside. Even at this late hour there was a large group of students gathered around the hearth and much to Ron's annoyance he saw that in the center of the group, like a queen holding court, was Rane Voitekh. His eyes narrowed further when he saw that Harry and Ginny were a part of her party. Feeling almost betrayed he walked silently towards the boy's dormitory stairs, hoping to remain unseen. It wasn't fair. It was as if Rane was trying to take Hermione's place and Harry and Ginny were letting her. But Ron was having none of it. No one could ever take Hermione's place.

He was halfway to the stairwell when a soft voice with a heavy accent called out to him. "Ronald." He cringed at the sound of her voice as the rest of the room grew quiet to listen. "Why don't you come and join us?"

Knowing it would be rude to ignore her and continue on his way and that his mother would have kittens if she found out, and he knew she would since Ginny was present, and the fact that almost every eye in the room was watching him for his reaction, he decided his best course was to make his excuse and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

Turning slowly, the blank look he usually wore in place on his face, he met Rane's amber colored eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm really knackered. I think I'll just head on up and go to sleep."

Rane nodded her understanding and Ron disappeared as quickly as he could up the stairs without being rude.

When he was out of sight Rane turned and looked questioningly at Harry and Ginny. "Why does he avoid me? What have I done?"

Sighing loudly Ginny sat forward and looked Rane directly in the eye. "It's nothing you did." She assured the girl.

"Then why?" She persisted.

Ginny cringed as she felt the group around her lean in closer, their interest perked as well. She knew that they were waiting for her to reveal at last why the sudden change in Ron. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that." The group slumped back in their chairs disappointed, several of them glowering at her as if she had snatched back a wanted birthday gift. "All I can truthfully say is that it was nothing you did it's just something Ron is having trouble dealing with. He'll get over it eventually."

The Bulgarian sighed dramatically. "It's too bad really."

Ginny's right brow arched with curiosity. "What is?"

Rane blushed slightly as a faintly dazed look disappeared from her face. "Oh." She giggled. "Well your brother is handsome. I have always liked red hair on men. But unfortunately your brother seems to be thoroughly pinning away after someone." She raised a knowing brow. "Someone who it seems rejected his affection. I think that until he is done nursing his broken heart no one will have a chance with him."

Ginny and Harry turned to each other in horror, both wishing that they had lunged across the circle and quieted her before she had made her far too observant insights known.

Comprehension seemed to dawn on the faces of the large group as all the pieces fell into place. The two could literally see the wheels turning in the other student's minds as they fit the pieces together, their minds all drawing to the same conclusion. Harry was sure that by morning it was going to be spread through out the entire school that Ron had finally gotten up the nerve to confess his true feelings to Hermione and she had apparently, to everyone's surprise since they had all assumed she had fancied Ron as well, rejected him then proceeded to run away to Bulgaria leaving Ron alone to mend his broken heart.

All eyes turned to the staircase that Ron had disappeared on. Harry could practically read their minds as they sat there silently. The boys all pitied Ron and thought it would have been better if he hadn't risked putting his heart on the line like that while the girls were staring at the staircase with mixed emotions on their faces. Half of them being angry at Hermione for hurting him like that, the other half thrilled that he was apparently finally available.

It wasn't unknown to Harry that most of the girls in the school had started to notice Ron last year, after all he was a tall, good looking guy with a passionate nature. And after he had started playing Quiditch and his lanky frame had started to fill in with muscle tone, their admiration had only grown.

But they had all laid off because, after all, it was quiet clear that Ron only had eyes for Hermione and they had all thought she had felt the same for him. So in their minds it was only a matter of time until the two got together. But now, Harry realized, Hermione was out of the picture and Ron was now considered firmly on the market and, as Rane so eloquently put it, he was nursing a broken heart. It was the perfect opportunity for all those girls to move in and try to nab him before they lost their chance.

Harry almost felt like he should give the bloke a warning so that he wasn't bombarded and overwhelmed in the morning by the sudden attention of the female population, but he knew it would be a waste of time because Ron wouldn't believe him. His best mate could be so thick at times. He was completely oblivious to the looks that the girls cast his way. Well, Harry almost snorted, he was going to find out real quick in the morning.


	5. Going Mental

Chapter 5: Going Mental

The Great Hall went suddenly silent at the entrance of the two best friends the next morning. All eyes were glued on the tall, red headed Keeper and true to form he was completely oblivious, though the sudden silence did cause him a moments pause before he continued on towards the Gryffindor table. As Harry had predicted word spread like wild fire and by breakfast everyone in the school knew that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had had a falling out of sorts, as no one was clear on the details. This didn't seem to bother anyone though. All that the female population was concerned about was the fact that Ronald Weasley was now up for grabs and there were many feminine fingers itching to snatch him up.

Glossy heads bowed towards each other as he walked past, appreciative eyes following his every movement. The more timid girls smiled at him meekly when they caught his eye, the more daring called out greetings in high, trilley voices which were soon followed by annoyingly obvious giggles when he nodded his greeting in return.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with everyone today?" Ron asked as he and Harry took their seats.

Harry snickered at the irritation he heard in his friend's voice. "What do you mean, mate?"

Harry waited as Ron paused to wave at a group of third year girls half way down the table who called out his name and giggled madly when he acknowledged them. "What do you mean what do I mean?" He flung his hand out in a wide arch so that his fingers pointed towards the group of third years he had just waved at. "Is it just my imagination or have all the girls gone completely mental today?" As if to prove his point there was another burst of feminine laughter the next table over. "See?"

Harry laughed out loud as he clapped Ron affectionately on the back. "I'm not sure it's the girls who've gone mental, mate."

Sighing heavily Ron scooted forward on the bench and started filling his plate with his favorite breakfast foods. Feeling genuinely hungry for the first time in weeks, Ron was just about to take his first bite into his eggs when Lavender Brown slid onto the bench beside him, scooting so close that her thigh almost grazed his.

"Good morning, Ronald." She simpered sweetly batting her eye lashes at him appealingly.

"Morning Lavender." He said hesitantly, glancing questioningly at her then at Harry who merely shrugged before digging into his own plate of eggs and breakfast sausage. Ronald, the red head thought, no one but Hermione ever called him that.

"Did you sleep well last night?" She shifted so that her thigh brushed against his.

Ron looked over at her with furrowed brows as he finished chewing his eggs and swallowed. "I slept all right."

"Good." She placed an attractively manicured hand on his upper arm causing him to look from her hand to her made-up face, his confusion mounting. "So Ron, you have Quiditch practice today, right?"

"Yeah." He said tentatively, unsure exactly where her questions were leading.

She let her fingers trail down his arm slowly, causing gooseflesh to rise in their wake. "Perhaps I could stop by and watch. I always have found… _Quiditch_… rather fascinating."

Ron shrugged absently as he turned back to his breakfast, deciding that his empty stomach was more important then trying to understand Lavenders abnormal behavior. "Sure. What ever."

Lavender beamed at him. "Fantastic! I'll see you there."

And with that she bound away excitedly to join Parvati who was leaning in close to Seamus giggling at something he whispered in her ear.

"Mental. I'm telling you." Harry heard Ron murmur as he shoveled more food in his mouth.

Harry, Ginny and Ron walked down to the pitch together latter that evening, their brooms flung causally over their shoulders. Harry and Ginny kept up a steady stream of conversation the whole way, most of which Ron chose to ignore. The two friends were discussing Professor Donovan's DADA class, comparing the teacher's tactics as well as their impressions of her.

Ginny seemed to like Donovan. She was pretty and sweet, was never judgmental and on top of everything, knew her stuff. After Lupin she thought Donovan was quite possibly the best DADA teacher they'd had.

While Harry couldn't find anything at the moment to hold against her, he was still slightly leery, something that annoyed Ginny to no end. But considering his record with past teachers she could very well understand. While Lupin had been ideal and had taught them loads, the others had been less then desirable. One had tried to Obliviate him and Ron, another had sent a Dementor to try and suck out his soul, banned him from Quiditch and forced him to carve words into the back of his hand. And the other two had both turned out to be Death Eaters who tried to kill him. No, until she proved herself, Harry refused to give Donovan his full approval and trust.

As the threesome drew near to the pitch they heard a gentle hum emanating from within the stands. When they were a few yards off it became apparent that the gentle hum they heard was that of many conversations.

Halting just outside the pitch the three friends shared a perplexed look before stepping through the entrance. The sound instantly ebbed away into silence punctuated by several appreciative sighs. Harry and Ginny both stopped when they saw the surprisingly large gathering of girls dotting the stands. It seemed that Lavender was not the only person with the idea of using Quiditch practice as a chance to watch the Keeper openly and unhindered.

Ginny rolled her eyes with annoyance when several of the girls waved at Ron before bursting into uproarious fits of giggles.

"Good lord." She snapped. "Is it just my imagination or is there an annoyingly large amount of that going on?" she asked Harry with exasperation laced in her voice.

Harry snickered as he nudged Ginny playfully with his shoulder. "Just ignore them." He followed his friends retreating back with his eyes, the humor draining from his face reality. "Maybe this is what he needs right now."

Some of the annoyance left Ginny's features as she too watched her brothers retreating back. "I hate watching him like this."

Harry sighed. "There's really nothing we can do about it is there?" He looked over at Ginny and saw that her coffee colored eyes were watching him intently. "What I mean is they're both incredibly stubborn. Hermione refuses to forgive him and he refuses to forgive himself. I don't think he can until she does."

The pair started towards the Gryffindor changing room Ginny casting a look around the field again before shaking her head. "They may as well not even try." She grumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

Ginny shrugged furtively as she continued to walk ahead. "Well, us Weasleys, we're a strange lot." She glanced at the raven haired boy out of the corner of her eye. "You might think this sounds stupid," her skin flushed a charming shade of pink, "and Ron would kill me if he knew I was telling you this. He says he thinks it utter rubbish, but he believes just like the rest of us."

"Believes what?"

"In the one and only."

"The what?"

"One and only," Ginny brushed a loose strand of copper hair out of her eyes. "We come from a long line of Weasleys who have only ever fallen in love with one person their entire life. Look at mum and dad." She tried to explain. "They met while here at Hogwarts, fell in love, and have only ever been with each other. One and only. And the twins. They've only ever dated Angelina and Katie. Bill and Charlie have dated before but nothing as serious as Fleur and Sarah. I suspect there'll be weddings in the not so distant future." She shrugged her dainty shoulders sadly. "And look at Ron. He fell for Hermione long ago. Which is the _real_ reason this is eating him up inside. He _knows_ that Hermione will be the only one for him ever and he thinks he ruined his chance."

Harry stared at the younger girl for a few moments with wide eyes before it altered to a teasing smirk. "And what about you Miss Weasley? Have you found _your_ one and only yet?"

Ginny flashed Harry her most dazzling smile causing a jolt to hit him in the pit of his stomach. Tossing her long sheet of silky, fine hair over her shoulder she strode away calling back at him. "I haven't decided yet."

Harry watched her retreating back frozen until she disappeared inside the locker room. Shaking his head to clear it of dazzling images of sun shinning of copper hair he followed after her.

Ron couldn't take it anymore. The girls were driving him absolutely mental. They never left him alone. He was half convinced that the girls at Hogwarts had made it their mission to make his life miserable. As of things weren't bad enough already they made it worse by constantly pointing at him and giggling, or following him about every where he went or persistently staring at him. He couldn't go anywhere without feeling the eerie sensations of eyes borrowing into his back. It was enough to send anyone to have a permanent visit with Lockhart at St. Mungo's. It was to the point where he couldn't even concentrate in the library. Much to his annoyance he found that he almost felt sympathetic towards Viktor Krum, understanding what it must have felt like during the Tri-Wizard Tournament when he couldn't find a moment alone to himself. That realization above everything else annoyed Ron the most. He didn't want to feel any understanding or sympathy to the ugly Bulgarian git.

At the thought of the Bulgarian seeker and _friend_ of Hermione his eyes narrowed and his mood darkened. Turning his attention back to his work he was glad that he had 'borrowed'Harry's Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map to find a privet spot to study and brood away from the constant, observant eyes of Hogwarts. He hated having to steal them from Harry, but ever since Quiditch practice a week ago he was never able to find a place to be alone.

Ron sighed heavily as he flipped a page. He almost felt bad for taking the map. He knew he could have found a spot without it and cloak, but the truth was if he left them behind Harry and Ginny would try and find him as well and to his aggravation he found that that prospect was about as appealing as letting Lavender find him, and he desired that just about as much as he desired puking up slugs like he had second year.

Angrily Ron threw down his quill. If the girls of Hogwarts had unintentionally gotten on his nerves the past few weeks Harry and Ginny were purposefully trying to send him to the mental ward. They never left him alone. They were always asking him how he was feeling or trying to cheer him up or talk to him about what happened between him and Hermione. Or worst of all, tried to convince him to try and patch up his relationship with her. As if he hadn't been trying? Not that they knew that of course. He didn't need the only two friends he had left knowing that he sent a letter to Hermione every day only to have her send them back unopened. He didn't need that kind of pity, he was feeling pitiful enough as it were on his own.

Sighing heavily Ron leaned forward and flipped to the very back of his Charms book and pulled a warn wizard picture from between the pages. He held it up to the light and sighed again as he felt his heart clutch slightly in his chest. She was so beautiful.

It was a picture of just him and Hermione, Harry had been the one behind the camera. The picture had been taken on one of the few lazy days last year before the O.W.L.s and more importantly the incident at the Department of Mysteries. That day the three friends had been lying in the grass simply enjoying the sunshine and each others company.

He couldn't remember what was said that day but he was sure that he had said something purposefully obnoxious to which Hermione of course had responded to with a sarcastically clever comeback. What ever it was, it sent her scampering away out of reach with Ron chasing after her. She had screeched with laughter the whole time.

After letting her run for a short distance Ron would lunge after her, deliberately letting her slip through his fingers only to go chasing after her again. After letting himself have the tantalizing feel of his fingers graving her waist for the fourth time he had had enough and caught her around the waist and tossed her over his shoulder jauntily.

Hermione shrieked even louder and pounded against his broad back demanding to be let down which caused Ron to laugh robustly and spin around. It was during this moment that Harry had snapped the picture, while the two were spinning around, their faces bright with joy and maybe a bit of something else.

A corner of Ron's mouth twitched as the Hermione in the picture pounded on his back, her chocolate brown eyes twinkling with laughter. Feeling a slight pang in his heart he hid the picture away in the leaves of the book before thrusting it closed.

Turning his wrist over to check his watch he decided it was finally late enough for him to head back to the common room. It should be relatively empty by now.

Gathering up his books and parchment he slipped them into his school bag before flinging the strap over his head. When he was sure the cloak was completely covering him he pulled out the map and checked to see that the way was clear to Gryffindor tower.

To his annoyance he saw that Lavender was prowling about on the first floor, no doubt trying to find him. The rest of the halls appeared to be clear. Filch was in the dungeons, Dumbledore was in his office and the rest of the teachers appeared to be in bed. Even Mrs. Noris was tucked away for the night. He gave his head a sharp nod, certain he could make it up to his dormitory without being intercepted by Lavender, or anyone else for that matter.

Pushing the happy picture of him and Hermione out of his mind he made his way towards Gryffindor Tower and his inviting bed knowing full well that there was going to be another sleepless night ahead of him.

Hermione kept her back firmly to the window, spine straight, head held high, ears stubbornly closed. Pig was fluttering just outside the pane being tossed fiercely by the wind. He bobbed in and out of sight on the current, pecking adamantly at the window when he was in range.

"Shit Hermione," Maj slapped her hand down on the table top. "Will you just accept the damn letter so I can get on with my school work?"

"No." she said airily, not bothering to look up from her own crammed parchment. "He'll give up soon enough and go away."

Maj sighed with annoyance as there was a quick repetition of tapping as Pig was first thrust up the length of the window and out of sight then back down to bellow the sill. "I just don't understand why you just won't accept the letters."

"Because." Hermione dipped her quill in her ink pot and continued scribbling, ignoring the eyes that were watching her intently. For several minutes she ignored her friends' stares as she cross-referenced an obscure fact on portkeys for Charms, something about putting them into letters. She wasn't sure as her attention was diverted by the knowledge that her five friends were watching her. Hermione placed a marker in the book deciding it was something she would have to look more in depth to when she had more time, and when there was less people watching. When she could ignore the groups silent stares no longer she looked up impatiently. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You have been here for over a month," Maj began, voicing what the rest of the group was thinking. "And every day an owl comes, more often then not that one." She pointed to the window where the tiny owl somersaulted several times before dizzily regaining its wings. "And every day you send it away without reading the letter. Why?"

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably. "I have no desire to read what he has to say."

"Who?"

"Ron." Ester gasped with comprehension causing Hermione's head to snap around in surprise.

"Ester!" Hermione cried, triggering a blush in her friend's cheeks.

"I'm Sorry Hermione. It slipped. You hardly ever talk about him and when you do…" She trailed off. "I just realized now... I'm sorry."

"Wait," Bjorn looked between the two girls, his brows furrowed with distress. "Who is Ron?"

"No one." Hermione bowed her head over her parchment, effectively hiding her face. "Someone who _use_ to be a friend." Bjorn continued to look unconvinced of Hermione's assurance but tried to force it aside. "Now if you don't mind," she swept the room with her bright brown eyes, "I would like to finish my essay tonight so that I don't have to do it over the weekend."

At her insistence the group settled back into quiet studying or reading. Ester sat in an armchair near the fire, leafing through her Dark Arts book. Thora lay on her stomach before the fire flipping through the glossy pages of the Bulgarian magazine _Modern Witch_, she settled on a quiz and began to scribble away at it. Maj sat beside Hermione at the table, deliberately ignoring Yorick who was hinting that he wanted to sneak away into one of the unoccupied rooms with his girlfriend. After a stern look from her, he left Maj to her studies with a dejected sigh. Bjorn smirked at his friend's disappointment but quickly settled into his own work. When the room was quiet once more, her friends busy studying and Pig finally giving up and leaving, Hermione relaxed and went back to her essay.

She turned to the heavy, worn tome spread in front of her. She skimmed down to where she had left off reading and found the passage concerning the complex magic of portkeys imbedded in the lines of a letter. The reference was interesting but her mind couldn't help but wonder.

Ron's smiling face flashed before her eyes as it always did when her mind went into reverie. No matter how she tried she just couldn't seem to force him from her thoughts. She found herself thinking about him at the most inopportune moments; in the middle of class, while working on assignments, talking with friends.

To be honest, she was sick of this game they were playing. Many times she found herself debating whether or not she should just accept his next letter and get it over with, or continue to send them back unanswered.

She had almost done it today. She had felt her determination wither away with each peck Pig took at the window, like he was pecking away at the invisible wall she had built to protect herself. She had just about given up and was preparing herself to go to the window when Maj had spoken and had unintentionally made her question her decision. Now that Pig was gone she couldn't help but feel that perhaps she should have accepted the letter after all.

What was she thinking? Hermione shook her head, clearing it of thoughts of the red head boy back in England. She couldn't let herself break, she scolded in her mind, she wouldn't ever consider forgiving anyone else if they had done what he did. Of course, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered, if anyone else had called her that it wouldn't have bothered her nearly as much, or maybe not at all.

Using the tip of her quill to wipe a stray tear from her eye she berated herself for getting so worked up about Ronald Weasley. She was over him she repeatedly told herself. It was quiet obvious that she had been mistaken in letting her affections settle on him for clearly he was not meant for her.

Underneath the table Bjorn's foot grazed along the side of hers. Hermione's lips quirked at the corner. He had been doing that quiet often as of late and she found it too enduring for words. Bjorn Ivailo was handsome, charming and sweet. And best of all, he seemed to be genuinely interested in her. His foot grazed hers under the table again. She glanced up and found that Bjorn was looking back at her, a playful sparkle in his warm gray eyes and a flirty smirk on his lips.

She smiled back weekly, her cheeks flushing with heat. She ducked her head down and continued her work fully aware that Bjorn continued to stare at her. Shifting slightly in her seat Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to ignore the tingly feeling she was getting the longer he watched.

When Bjorn's foot grazed against hers for a third time Hermione threw down her quill and stood up abruptly causing her chair to grate shrilly against the hard wood floor. She smiled apologetically at the group when they glanced up at her in surprise. She waited until her friends returned to their work once more before she caught Bjorn's eyes and cocked her head silently towards the door indicating that he should follow her.

Without waiting to see if he was following, Hermione strode towards the door well aware of Yorick's envious stare as she went. Once outside she scanned the corridor for an open door indicating a vacant room. Spotting one several portals away she walked towards it and stopped just outside waiting for Bjorn to enter first. When he slipped past her into the room she closed the door behind him then whipped around to face him, toe tapping playfully. "Well?" She prompted gently when he remained quiet.

Bjorn shifted his weight under her penetrating gaze. "Well what?"

Hermione sighed as she tilted her head to the side giving him an encouraging smile. "Why do you keep staring at me like that?"

Bjorn's skin tinted a red dark enough to compete with Ron on his worst day. "Noticed that, did you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest, her lips persistently twitching. "It was kind of hard to miss."

Bjorn's left hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck as he tried desperately to avoid her eyes. "Well you see Hermione…well the thing is…"

"Come on Bjorn. Spit it out."

The Bulgarian's skin grew even darker. "You see the thing is…" he stammered, "well, you see we always have a ball on Halloween." He shrugged dismissively, "it's kind of a tradition. And well, I was thinking… if you didn't have anyone to go with…if perhaps you would want to go with me?"

Hermione tipped her head to the side at an angle better suited to observe him. A part of her had been expecting this she supposed, but she had pegged him in the same category as Ron, someone who would never willing display his thoughts and emotions like that. She knew he liked her of course, that was easy to see, but she hadn't expected him to act on it. Now that the moment had arrived and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to react.

Yes she knew he was a fine boy, she wouldn't be friends with him if she didn't already think that. But did she like him as more then just a friend? She knew that she felt an attraction to him physically, but was that reason enough to alter the course of their friendship. She wasn't sure if she liked him fully like that, but as she watched him she realized that she could possibly grow to like him as more then just friends in the future. And even if she didn't, she reasoned, it was one Halloween ball. You can go to a school ball with a friend and not have it mean anything.

Besides having Bjorn fully focused on her for one whole night wouldn't be such a bad thing. He would defiantly be distracting. Perhaps for once she could go a full night without thinking about her former best friend.

"Is it a formal ball?" she finally asked.

Hermione had been silent for so long that Bjorn had begun to worry that it hadn't been such a good idea to ask her to go with him. He had convinced himself he had taken too big of a risk and was preparing to back out but stopped at the sound of her gentle voice. Bjorn's head snapped up in anticipation. "What?" he asked, not understanding immediately.

Hermione couldn't keep the humored grin from her face. "Are formal robes required?" When Bjorn nodded dumbly Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright. "Mine are periwinkle blue."

Bjorn stared at her, mouth agape as she began to walk away. "Wait. What?"

Hermione stopped to turn and look back at him. "You haven't changed your mind about asking me have you?"

"No. Of course I haven't."

"Good." Hermione turned and called over her shoulder. "My robes are periwinkle blue. In case you wanted to dress to match."

Bjorn's lips split into a wide smile. "Really?"

Hermione stopped in the door way, leaning against the post and nodded. "I'm looking forward to it." She assured him before she slipped out the door leaving Bjorn stunned and staring after her.

When it finally hit him what had happened he grinned stupidly and sank into the nearest chair, letting his head fall between his knees. He took several deep breaths to calm his frazzled nerves. When he had his breathing under control he sat up, a smug smile on his face. He couldn't help it. He had a date with Hermione Granger.


	6. Fancying

Chapter 6: Fancying

Two hours later Hermione sat cross legged on her bed her mirror propped at an angle against the headboard. Pulling her wand out of her robe pocket, she tapped the surface lightly causing it to glow a hazy white. She waited several minutes for Harry's face to appear in the smooth surface.

"Hello Harry." she greeted eagerly when her bright eyed friend appeared.

Harry beamed back at her from the glass. "Hello Hermione. How've you been? Still enjoying your classes?"

"I'm fine, Harry. And yes I still enjoy my Dark Arts Class."

Harry Sighed heavily. Every time they talked Harry made it a point to ask Hermione about her Dark Arts class. It bothered him on a rudimentary level that Durmstrang Academy deliberately taught their students how to perform Dark Magic. He had been positively aghast the first time Hermione had told him that she had enjoyed her Dark Arts class. He could not seem to fathom how anyone so imbedded in the fight against Voldemort's attempts at taking over the magic world could enjoy learning something that was the basis of his knowledge and tactics in fighting.

"Honestly, Harry." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"Hermione, it _is_ a bad thing. They should not be teaching you how to do dark magic."

Hermione sighed with exasperation. "Harry, please try and understand. The philosophy here is that you can't truly defend yourself against Dark Magic if you don't understand how to do it yourself. In Dark Arts class we learn how to do the spells, the reasons why we're not allowed to use them and then how to defend ourselves against them."

Harry's eyes were narrowed into thin slits. "Yeah, I've heard all this before. I still don't like it."

"Honestly Harry." Hermione huffed crossing her arms angrily in front of her chest. "If you think I'm going to come back and start using…"

"It's not _you _I'm worried about." He interrupted her curtly. "It's the other people learning dark magic. Voldemort's gaining more power everyday and Durmstrang openly teaching dark magic is an invitation for them to join up with the rest of the Death Eaters."

Hermione scowled angrily. "You don't know what you're talking about, Harry."

"I think I know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Harry, do you trust me?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes. Of course I do. You know that."

"Then why won't you trust me when I say you have nothing to worry about?"

"Humm." He pressed his finger to his lip in a sarcastic pose of contemplation. "could it possibly be because their former Headmaster was a servant of Voldemort? Or maybe it's because Malfoy's parents were considering sending him there? Or maybe…"

"That's enough, Harry." Hermione stopped him sentence. "Let me ask you something. Did you think Viktor was going to run off and join Voldemort?"

"No." he conceded begrudgingly.

"Or what about Rane? You've become friends with her. Do you think she is a Death Eater in training?"

"No, but…"

"So why do you think everyone else in this school is going to run off and join him when they finish school?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond but found, much to his consternation, that he could not form an acceptable answer. His mouth gapped open and closed for a minute making him greatly resemble a large eyed fish, before he finally found his voice. Crossing his arms stubbornly he said in a rigid voice, "I still don't like you using Dark Magic."

Hermione harrumphed angrily, "Can we please not argue about this. There's nothing you or I can do."

"Fine. Let's talk about Ron."

"Harry…" She began in a warning voice only to have him cut her off.

"Hermione, you have to talk to him."

The young girl bristled with annoyance at being told what to do. Her back straightened and she tipped her chin up stubbornly. "I don't _have _to do anything."

"This has gone on long enough. If you would only..."

"Is it possible to talk to Ginny?" She interjected irritably, efficiently silencing Harry.

While she was annoyed with Harry she felt her lips twitch upon hearing Harry grumble for a moment about infuriating girls always changing the subject before finally complying. "Of course you can." He said through his teeth. She knew that Harry was using the last of his control not to continue berating her about her relationship with Ron.

Every time the pair talked Harry found a way to bring up the subject of Ron. Sometimes he slid it into the conversation slyly, taking her by surprise. Other times he was blunt and forthright like he was today, blatantly telling her his opinion on the situation. She understood where Harry was coming from, she really could. It must be hard when your two best friends weren't talking to each other. But honestly, didn't he understand that Ron was not a topic that she wished to discus. It only brought back painful memories and a dull ache in her chest.

The image in the glass shifted, causing the background to blur behind Harry as he rose to his feet. "Let me go see if Gin's gone up to her dormitory yet." She watched as the view changed again while Harry slipped his mirror into his pocket causing the surface to go black.

Hermione waited patiently as Harry made his way from the boys dormitory where had answered her summons, to the common room bellow where hopefully Ginny would be. In the time that it had taken Harry to walk down the stairs Hermione had pushed aside her annoyance and was once again in a rapturous state. And found that she desperately needed to talk to her best girl friend. True, she and Ester had become very close since that day the Bulgarian girl had first introduced herself, but she wasn't quite comfortable yet discussing her love life with her. Not that she had much of a love life. Her experience in this area was painfully restricted to her encounters with Viktor two years ago and this strange dance she and Ron had been doing since… well, fir as long as she could remember.

Ginny had always been her confident in such matters. Even when Hermione had realized that Ron was the object of her affections and had told the younger girl, Ginny had insisted that they continue as they had been and assured Hermione that when they talked about him she would think of him as just some boy, and not her brother. And much to Hermione's surprise Ginny had been able to perform that task perfectly never grimacing or forming disgusted faces when Hermione talked about Ron. Not once had the younger girl complained.

"Oy! Rane." She heard Harry call faintly, his voice muffled by the fabric of his cloak. "Could you go get Ginny from her dorm? I need to talk to her."

"Of course, Harry." She heard Rane reply even more faintly.

After several more minutes of silently waiting she heard Ginny call out a friendly greeting to Harry to which the raven haired boy greeted her back. Harry reached into his pocket when Ginny grew close and passed the mirror stealthily into her hand. "Hermione wants to talk to you." He whispered in Ginny's ear. Hermione saw the red haired girl nod as she slipped the mirror into her robe pocket. "Say goodbye to her for me."

"I will." she assured him before making her way back up to her dorm room where she climbed onto her own bed, pulled the curtains closed and cast a silencing charm before pulling the mirror out of her pocket and flopping down on her stomach.

"Hello Hermione." Ginny greeted brightly when she saw her bushy haired friend in the glass. "How are things?"

"Oh, Ginny." Hermione squealed unable to restrain her excitement a moment longer. "I need your help."

Ginny's eyes widened with surprise. She focused more closely on the image of her friend and noticed for the first time a subtle difference. Hermione's cheeks were flushed pink with excitement, her eyes sparkled with jubilation and confidence and her bottom lip was chewed raw from almost two hours of pensive biting "Hermione, what has gotten into you?"

Hermione captured her bottom lip between her teeth as a rosy blush tinged her cheeks. "All right." She took a calming, steadying breath. "You know how I told you that I thought that my friend Bjorn might possibly like me a bit more then as just friends?"

"Yes of course. What of it?"

Hermione latterly squirmed with excitement. "He asked me to go to the Halloween Ball with him." She blurted out rapidly, blurring her words together.

It took a moment for Ginny's mind to comprehend what Hermione had said, and when she did all she could manage to say was. "Oh." And for a moment Hermione thought she saw a flash of something that resembled disappointment spread across Ginny's face, but it was replaced so quickly with a smile she wasn't sure. "That's great Hermione." Ginny said, pushing her own feelings aside and taking up the role of girl friend.

With Ginny's reassurance, Hermione pushed any doubts she had aside and let the excitement she had been feeling minutes ago over take her. "I'm so excited Ginny. He asked me earlier this evening. It was so sweet." Her eyes twinkled at the memory. "I had my suspicions he liked me of course, but I never thought he would do anything about it. But this evening, while we were working on our assignments, he kept nudging my foot under the table and smiling at me bashfully. It was so distracting I couldn't concentrate on my honmework. So finally I pulled him out of the room and then he tried to ask me. And it was so sweet." She giggled at the memory causing a tingle of annoyance to race up Ginny's spine. Hermione had never been one to giggle and the few times she had it had been geared towards her brother. She didn't think she liked the fact that the giggle was now reserved for the mention of another bloke. Ginny almost felt like she was helping Hermione betray her brother.

"He got all flustered," Hermione continued, not noticing that Ginny was only have listening, "and he stammered out half the words." She pressed her hand to her lips as she tried to hide her giddy smile. "And you should have seen how red his face got. It was so sweet."

Ginny's brow arched at Hermione in the glass as the last descriptions sank in. "Sounds familiar." She murmured knowing her friend was too distracted to hear her. "So, what are you planning on wearing?"

The pleasure evaporated instantly from her soft features. "Well you see Ginny, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I thought I would wear my dress robes from fourth years. Sadly I haven't grown any taller so they still fit me reasonably well. But I was wondering if you had any ideas of what I can do with my hair. And I have no idea how to put on make-up and…"

"Hermione!" Ginny chuckled at her friend's ramblings as well as the idea that Hermione actually thought she could help in that area. "This is really not my area of expertise. That's one of the reasons why you and I get along so well, remember?"

Hermione sighed with resignation. "Right." She sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she contemplated her options. "What am I going to do Ginny? I don't have any idea what is fashionable or not. And I never bothered to learn any of those beauty spells Parvati and Lavender are always doing between classes. Why did I never bother to pay attention while they were getting ready?"

"Why don't you ask Lavender and Parvati then?"

"I would, but I think that would be a little hard to manage now that I am in Bulgaria."

Ginny stroked her chin thoughtfully as she racked her brain for a solution. She was just thinking that perhaps she could ask Parvati and Lavender if they could send some beauty and fashion magazines to Hermione when it came to her. She rolled her eyes at both her and Hermione's stupidity. "Good lord Hermione. Weren't you just telling me the other day that Thora and Maj are always sitting around doing each others hair and reading fashion magazines."

"Of course." Hermione smacked her hand against her head lightly. "Thora and Maj. How could I have been so stupid? Sometimes I forget that I actually have friends who know how to do make-up."

"We were just talking about Lavender and Parvati."

Hermione cast Ginny an annoyed look. "Honestly Ginny, I don't think I could really consider those two as friends."

"They're not that bad." Hermione snorted her disagreement. "They're not. Besides," Ginny continued effortlessly hiding the playful gleam in her eye "Lavender can't be all that bad. She's taken a real shining to Ron after all."

Ginny could see Hermione's back stiffen at her end of the mirror. "What?"

"Oh yes," she said dismissively. "I'm not sure how it happened," she lied believably, using techniques that had helped her get out of blame for years, "but rumor has it that you and Ron had a bit of a falling out and seeing as almost the entire school thought you and Ron were some what of an item, or were at least on the verge of becoming one, for the past couple of years they laid off. But now that you're out of the picture," Ginny shrugged "it appears they've all set their caps to try and snare him. It's rather annoying actually. Girls are always following him, giggling behind their hands, and waving at him. A group of third years have even memorized his class schedual and mapped out the path he takes to classes so that they cam make sure they see him." Ginny rolled onto her back, brushing her hair out from underneath her as she went.

"Lavender's the worst though. She's bound and determined to win Ron over. He can't go anywhere or do anything without her tagging along. And now she has Parvati helping by keeping others away when they're together or guarding over him when she's not around." Ginny snorted with laughter. "It's kind of funny actually. Some of the girls have started backing off because they think Lavender is day's away from winning him over."

Ginny watched intently as Hermione's eyes narrowed into a scowl and her back armored straight. She had a hard time not grinning at her friend reaction. Ginny could see the jealousy and disappointment in her friends chocolate eyes as well as anger that anyone would move in on her territory. But the glare swiftly disappeared and was replaced with a determined glint of indifference. Hermione's face was so intensely devoid of any emotion that Ginny began to doubt that she had seen the glare of possession.

"Well, I feel sorry for Lavender." She spoke in a stunted, cold voice. "It's a pity she's wasting so much time and energy on a little boy who will drop her flat as soon as he finds out she's not a pure blood."

"Hermione!" Ginny gasped with dismay.

"I have to go Ginny." Hermione continued, ignoring her friend's sputter of indignation. "I have an early class in the morning and I'm knackered as it is. It was wonderful talking to you. Thank you for your help." And before Ginny had a chance to respond the mirror went blank.

Ginny tossed the glass aside with annoyance. "Some times I don't understand how he fell in love with you."

Ginny slipped the mirror back to Harry the first chance she got the next day, which happened to be at lunch. She found him sitting alone towards the end of the table Ron nowhere in sight. Sliding in beside him she set her bag on the bench beside her and cast a quick look around to make sure no one was watching them before she slipped the oblong sheet out of her pocket and handed it to Harry under the table.

"Thank you, Harry."

Harry acknowledged her thanks with a nod. "What did you two talk about?"

Ginny's mood instantly darkened. "Oh a little of this and that." Her voice was laced with animosity and annoyance. Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. Ginny sighed heavily. "Hermione wanted to tell me that Bjorn asked her to go to the Halloween Ball with him."

Harry's eyes widened with surprise. "Really?"

Ginny rolled her coffee brown eyes. "It was nauseating. She's so blind."

Harry lifted his goblet to his lips, staring at her over the rim. "What do you mean?"

The copper haired girl turned in her seat to better face him. "She described to me how he asked her to go with him. See if this doesn't sound a little bit familiar. While working on homework she caught him staring at her strangely. When she pulled him out of the room to ask him what the matter was he could barley stammer out the question and he blushed rather red. She thought it was adorable."

Harry snorted into his goblet. "Of course she does." He agreed before setting the goblet down.

"Exactly!" Ginny shouted smacking her hand against the table. "Everything she found attractive about him are things that she obviously finds attractive about Ron."

"So you think she said yes to Bjorn because he reminds her of Ron."

"I never said she said yes." Harry stared at her pointedly. "Well I didn't." she persisted. "Anyway, that doesn't matter right now. What matters is what is going to happen when Ron finds out."

"When I find out what?" Ginny's eyes grew large when she heard her older brother's voice from behind her. She and Harry spun on their seats to see Ron standing a few feet behind them, his book bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, his red hair unruly and windblown, his cheeks pink from the wind. He had obviously gone for a short ride on his broom to clear his head. He did that a lot lately. "When I find out what?" he prompted again when the pair failed to answer.

"Nothing." Ginny yelped turning back to the table and reaching for the nearest platter to fill her plate.

"Nice try, Gin." Ron grumbled moodily as he took the seat next to Harry. "Now seriously, what am I suppose to be reacting badly to?"

Ginny looked at Harry out of the corner of her eye and saw that he was looking questioningly at her. She knew that Harry wanted to tell Ron, that he didn't feel right keeping things from him, but he also knew that Hermione had told her this in confidence and while she hadn't said anything they both knew that she wouldn't want them telling Ron.

Harry's expression changed. Instantly Ginny knew Harry was about to tell Ron, perhaps everything. He had been going back and forth for weeks now on whether or not they should tell Ron about the mirror. She hated lying to Ron just as much as Harry did, but they had given Hermione their word that they wouldn't tell. Knowing instinctively that Harry was about to break and tell Ron everything, Ginny placed a halting hand on his shoulder and pinned him with her pleading eyes. He sighed audibly and nodded his head almost imperceptibly. He understood.

When they turned back to Ron he was giving them a curious look, his mouth pursed ready to question. Mind working rapidly, Harry said the first thing that came to his mind. "Ginny fancies me."

Ginny gasped and Ron snorted. "And people call me thick." He chuckled as he shoveled food into his mouth and swallowed it almost whole.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked shoving his own plate away, suddenly loosing his apatite.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come on Harry. Every one knows that Ginny's been mad for you since…" Ron screwed up his eyes in concentration, "since I can't even remember when."

Harry turned to look at Ginny whose cheeks were flaming a deep scarlet. His brows arched high. "Really?" Ginny tried to hide her face from his penetrating emerald gaze which made Harry want to laugh. "I thought…" but before he could finish Ginny grabbed her bag off the bench and dashed out of the room her head ducked down out of sight.

Harry stood up to follow her but Ron stopped him. "Don't worry about it, Harry. She knows nothing will happen between the two of you." Ron shuddered, his fork lifted halfway to his lips. "Just the thought of it. You and my sister." He shuddered again.

"Oh... Right." Harry shook his head. "Of course." Ron looked at him skeptically, one brow arched higher then the other one. "I was just worried, you know. Ginny and I have become good friends this year and all. I'd hate for anything to ruin that."

Ron shrugged dismissively. "Like I said, I wouldn't worry about it. She knows you're not interested." His eyes narrowed on his best friend as a disturbing thought came into his head. "You're _not_ interested, are you?"

"No." Harry barked quickly. "Of course not." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Why would you think that?"

"Just making sure. Ginny's too young to be in any kind of a relationship."

"She's fifteen, Ron. The same age I was when I started seeing Cho last year." He argued.

"That's different."

"How so?" Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You're not my little sister." Ron looked over at him and snorted. "It's a good thing to. You'd make one right ugly girl."

Harry elbowed his friend painfully in the side as the red head laughed. "Yeah well, don't think you'd look any better."

Ron threw his hand over his heart in mock indignation. "Are you trying to say that I'm unattractive?"

Harry snorted. "No. What I'm trying to say is that you're one right ugly git."

Ron brushed his brow dramatically while heaving a big sigh. "Well, that's a relief. I was beginning to worry there for a moment."

Shaking his head Harry hefted the strap of his bag onto his shoulder as he stood up. "Come on mate. We have class in a few minutes."

Ron nodded and shoveled the last of his food into his mouth before picking up his own sack and following Harry from the hall.

The pair walked silently down the corridor, the jovial mood of a few minutes ago gone. Ron was quiet and pensive again though his mood did seem to have brightened slightly. As they made their way through the halls he acknowledged the greetings of his fellow students, smiling, nodding his head and waving periodically at his closer friends.

Harry on the other hand had his head ducked down, his eyes staring intently at the floor as his mind raced. He was confused. Ginny still fancied him? If the color of her skin a few minutes ago was any indication, Ron was right. Ginny still fancied him.

Harry stumbled to a stop, the reality of the statement finally hitting him. Ginevra Weasley fancied him. He had to admit, he had felt a slight loss at the beginning of the summer on the train when Hermione had told him that Ginny was over him. But now it appeared that Hermione had been wrong. Ginny did still fancy him. And Harry couldn't help it when he realized that he was relieved rather then annoyed. But what did that mean?

"Harry?" Ron calling to him from the door way of the charms classroom snapped him out of his thoughts. Harry nodded and quickened his pace until he caught up with his best mate and they slipped inside the room, taking their usual seats in the back.

Let me know if it didn't work again.


	7. New Images

Chapter 7: New Images

Mumbling exasperatedly to himself Harry stomped up the stairs to the boys sixth year dormitory and flipped open the lid of his trunk, pushing aside the contents until he found the warn piece of paper he was searching for. Making sure the room was empty he sat on the foot of his bed and pulled out his wand. Giving the map a tap he murmured "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Instantly streams of ink began to spread across the page like a web until distinct borders and boundaries materialized. When all the lines were in place and the tiny dots began to move about the castle, Harry bent his head close to the page in search. He found his target sitting alone in the transfiguration classroom. Nodding, Harry slipped the map in his pocket before standing and making his way down to the common room and to the portrait hole below.

Ginny had avoided Harry for a week now, ever since the day at lunch that Ron had revealed to him that Ginny still fancied him Never before would Harry have thought it would be possible for Ginny to avoid him so completely, but now he knew it was. She didn't show up for dinner, he suspected she snuck down to the kitchens and Dobby took care of her. She avoided the common room, the library and the empty class room at the end of the fourth floor corridor on the left hand side, all places he knew that Ginny preferred to study.

When he realized he realized that eh couldn't possibly corner in her school he decided that he would have to wait until their next Quiditch practice. But even in that Ginny was able to thwart him by arriving late to practice while Harry was busy taking the team through their warm up paces and fleeing afterwards before he had a chance to ask her to stay.

While Harry had been annoyed before he was livid now. He missed having Ginny around. She was a good friend. Granted she wasn't Ron or Hermione, but she was still good to have around. She had a knack for knowing when Harry's thoughts wallowed on Sirius's death or the ramifications of the prophesy. She had the amazing ability of diverting his thoughts before he could sink to deep into self pity. She was blunt and witty and embodied all the characteristics that he loved from the Weasley family.

She was touched with Ron's bravery and loyalty, Percy's intelligence, though thankfully not his big headedness. She had Charley's Quiditch abilities, Bill's big heart, Mrs. Weasley's nature to take care of people and Mr. Weasley's enthusiasm for things he loved, though Harry was much relieved hers was not geared towards plugs and other Muggle contraptions. She also had a sense of humor and a diabolical mind to rival the twins, but had the sense to use it sparingly and cleverness not to get caught. Harry knew for a fact that well over half the pranks attempted since Fred and George had left school the year before had been carried off by Ginny. But never once had she been caught and no one other than Harry suspected that sweet Ginny Weasley could possibly be the culprit.

Harry missed having her around. He hadn't realized until this week how much he really enjoyed her company and how much he missed her when she was gone. He never laughed so much as when he was with her, and all his troubles seemed to melt away under the warmth of her smile.

He missed Ginny and frankly had had enough of his friends avoiding people. He might not be able to do anything about Ron and Hermione, but he would be damned if he was going to let Ginny withdraw from their friendship simply because she had a crush on him. They had managed to be friends for the past year and a half under the same circumstances and he didn't see why things would have to change now just because he knew the full truth.

Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and strode quickly across the common room towards the portrait hole. He was just lifting his hand to push the portal open when he heard his name called from the other side of the room. "Harry?" he turned to see Ron staring at him from near the fire, his charms book propped open between his knees. "Where you off to?"

He debated for a moment telling Ron that he was off to find Ginny but decided that he wasn't in the mood to answer Ron's questions, as he was sure he would have to if he told the truth. Instead he shrugged dismissively. "Just for a walk. I need to clear my head."

Ron nodded. "Want me to come with you?"

Harry stared at his friend a moment in surprise. This was the first time Ron had offered to come on a walk with him in a long time. That fact alone caused Harry to seriously reconsider confronting Ginny tonight and going on the offered walk with his best friend. "No." He smiled fondly at the red head. "I just need a bit of time to myself. Besides, you haven't finished your charms essay yet I still need time to copy it into my own words."

Ron snorted as he rolled his eyes. "Heaven forbid you should try doing it yourself."

Harry grinned brightly. "Why break a tried true method we know works?" A flash of something akin to pain flashed across Ron's face as he recalled having a similar conversation with Hermione the year before. Harry saw _that _look in Ron's eyes and grasped for something to say. "Why don't we play chess when I get back." He finally offered. "You should be done with your essay by then."

Ron quirked his head to the side a moment in consideration before nodding and turning back to his book, scribbling some hasty notes in the margin. Harry cast one last glance at his friend before slipping out the door, pulling the map from his pocket to make sure the way was clear before heading towards the transfiguration class room.

When Harry arrived Ginny was sitting in a desk halfway up the isle, a large book open in front of her, head propped on her left fist and her right hand moving absently across the page. He stealthily moved in behind her, peering over her shoulder at the half filled parchment. The top half of the page was filled with drawings of snitches, broom sticks, circle glasses and lightning bolts.

Harry's lip quirked at the corner as he slipped onto the bench beside her. "You've been avoiding me." He whispered silkily into her ear.

Ginny jerked with surprise, dropping her quill and tipping her ink well with her hand. Using the reflexes honed from years of being a Seeker, Harry caught the ink before it had a chance to spill.

Ginny withered with embarrassment beside him. "Thank you." Her voice squeaked as she accepted the well from Harry. Turning quickly away from him to hide the heat of her face, she screwed the top firmly into place before slipping it into her bag along with the parchment and her book. She was just standing up readying the strap to slip over her shoulder when Harry reached out and gently pulled Ginny back down to the seat.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He asked, deciding it was best to adopt Ginny's abrupt nature in this instance.

She tipped her head forward so that a curtain of silky red hair fell from over her shoulders and blocked her face from view. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Ginny, don't lie to me." He gently reached out and brushed the silky strands away from her eyes, tucking them behind her ear. "Hermione said you were over me."

Ginny's cheeks flamed a deeper scarlet. "She never would have said that."

Harry sighed with mild exasperation. "She told me on the train going home last year that you were over me."

Ginny shook her head emphatically. "No. I can assure you she did not."

"How do you know?"

"Because," Ginny looked over at him. "That would be a lie and if anything Hermione never lies. Well at least to others. To herself is an entirely different story."

"But I remember her saying that you had giv-en up on me." His eyes widened with understanding.

Ginny turned away from his penetrating green gaze. "I told Hermione earlier last year that I realized that nothing was ever going to happen between us. She knew that I had given up on you…not that I was over you."

The pair sat awkwardly in the heavy silence for several minutes, neither sure what to say or do next.

"Ginny, can I be honest with you?" She nodded hesitantly, watching him coyly out of the corner of her eye. "I think…I'm beginning to fancy you too." Ginny's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She turned fully in the seat better to see him. "But you see, the thing is…"

Ginny reached out her small calloused hand and placed it on top of his larger, Quiditch roughened one. "What is it Harry?"

He turned over his hand to grip hers. "I don't want to spoil anything." He looked up at her with pleading eyes. "Do you understand that?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed with confusion. "What could you possibly spoil by fancying me?"

Harry sighed and moved closer to her. "Well first there's my friendship with Ron. He's not overly keen on the idea of you seeing anyone, as you well know. And the prospect of us being together didn't seam to charm him over anymore then the prospect of you and Dean did."

"When did you talk to him about that?"

"After you left us at lunch. He told me not to worry about you because you knew there was no chance of us ever being together."

"He did?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. He still sees you as his baby sister and no one, not even his best friend, is good enough for you."

Ginny rolled her eyes before pinning Harry with an annoyed look. "You wouldn't let that stop you now would you?" she crossed her arms challengingly in front of her chest.

"No." Harry shook his head. "Normally I wouldn't. But Ron isn't the only thing to consider. I also have to think about your family."

"My family?"

"Yes. Gin, your family." Harry ran a disgruntle hand thought his unruly hair, mussing it even further. "Your mum and dad have taken me in and cared for me as one of their own. Your brothers have all treated me like a brother, as if I was just another of the Weasley clan. Call me selfish, but I don't want to loose that." Ginny opened her mouth to protest but Harry stopped her by placing three fingers gently but firmly over her full lips.

"Let's say we did start seeing each other, and things didn't work out between us. I would be loosing your family, I would be loosing Ron and I would be loosing you forever. Ron would forgive me in time of course, and we both know your parents would never let me get away with not coming around." Harry's other hand came down to fold around their entwined fingers. "I don't think you realize this Ginny," he ducked his head so that she couldn't see his eyes, "but your friendship has meant more to me these past few months then anything else." He rubbed the cold sweat from the back of his neck. "I can't believe I'm actually telling you this but this past summer when I was stuck at Privet Drive it was your letters that kept me from going mad. Ron and Hermione both wrote to me, but most of the time they were telling me not to worry, that I would be joining you all soon, or that they couldn't tell me anything about what was going on with the order, or asking me how I was doing, or even, they would write endlessly about the other. Gods, if it wasn't so funny it would be enough to drive me mental." Harry and Ginny shared a snicker at Ron and Hermione's expense.

"So what was so different about my letters?"

Harry's brows scrunched in consideration. "What I think I liked most about your letters was how normal they were. You wrote about everyday things you know, the trouble Fred and George were getting into, how work was going for your dad, what you were doing to pass the days. When I read your letters I could believe for a short time that life was still normal, that there wasn't the most evil and powerful wizard in history coming after me, that all the people I cared about most were deeply imbedded in fighting, that I could receive word any day that something had happened to one of you. It was your letters I looked forward to reading, not Ron and Hermione's."

"Really?" Harry looked up to see that her coffee brown eyes were bright with tears.

The corner of his lip quirked up. "By the end of the summer I was looking forward to seeing you just as much as I was Ron and Hermione."

"Then things feel apart between them..."

"And the three of us split up." he finished.

Sensing his need for comfort, Ginny rested her coppery head on his shoulder. Instead of shaking her off, Harry scooted closer and wrapped an arm protectively around her waist. "I never thought I'd see the day when anything could separate us."

"Neither did I."

Harry sighed heavily. "Please don't think I only see you as a replacement for them."

"I don't." she assured him.

"It's just that, with Hermione in Bulgaria and Ron…walking around like an ogre…I don't know what I would have done without you."

"It's all right, Harry." She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze.

"No." He pushed her slightly away and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him. "I need you to understand. I'm sorry that I never really noticed you in the past. That I thought of you only as Ron's little sister. It was stupid and wrong of me. But you really have become one of my best friends. And I don't know what I would do if I lost you as well."

Ginny nodded her head sadly. "I understand, Harry." And he knew she did, but he also knew that she was deeply disappointed. She began to rise to her feet but Harry pulled her down again.

"Ginny, please tell me we can still be friends."

Her expression softened into a sad smile. "Of course we can, Harry." Her hand rose on its own accord to cup his face. "I would rather have you as a friend then nothing at all." Making a quick decision she pushed aside her mortification, leaned forward and pressed her lips firmly to Harry's.

Before he had a chance to react to the high voltage of electricity that shot down his spine at her touch she had already pulled away and had scampered out of the room, leaving her rucksack behind in her haste.

Harry stared after her, his mind reeling. Ginny kissed him. Ginny Weasley, little sister to his best friend, bright, beautiful, sparkling Ginevra Weasley kissed him. And it was bloody brilliant!

Harry closed his eyes and replayed that moment in his mind over again for several minutes until it was burned into his memory. Gods, why did he have to go and tell her he wanted her just to be his friend.

Hermione sat in her desk chair, her hands clenching and unclenching with anxiety in her lap as she saw more strands of her brunette locks pile on the floor around her.

"Relax Hermione." Thora chuckled, not bothering to look up from her gloosy magazine. "It's just hair. If you don't like what she does it will grow back."

Hermione took several calming breaths. "I know that. I've just never done anything like this before."

Maj snorted unattractively as she closed the scissors with a slice. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Hermione glowered with ill amusement. "Ester, they're not butchering my hair are they?"

Ester rose from Hermione's bed and walked forward, her lips pursed appraisingly. "I'm no expert," She said in a voice that mimicked Maj's expertly, "but I think they're doing an admiral job."

"Well," Hermione rolled her eyes, "as long as you're sure."

Maj and Thora burst out laughing while Ester simply grinned at her friend.

"All right." Maj flung out her arms when her laugher died away, indicating she wanted silence. "Let me get this done so that we can finish her in time for the ball."

The other girls waited patiently as Maj snipped away the last remaining strands of undesired hair. With one last slice she stepped back a step with the scissors pressed to her lips as she appreciated her handy work. She took a minute to rearrange locks of hair by hand until she was satisfied with the outcome. "What do you think Ester? Thora? Should we let her see?"

The two girls' faces split into approving smiles. They nodded their encouragement with enthusiasm. Rushing forward they took Hermione's hands and pulled her to her feet and towards her mirror, Maj, having dropped her scissors, was now covering Hermione's eyes so that it would be a surprise when she looked at her reflection for the first time.

The four girls crowded into the small lavatory, angling themselves so that Hermione would have an unhindered view of herself in the glass. Hermione's anxiety grew with each burst of laughter that came from the other girls. Sensing that Hermione couldn't stand the suspense a moment longer Maj counted down from three and on one she lifted away her hands leaving Hermione to blink against the bright light for a moment. When her eyes were adjusted she risked looking in the mirror and stopped short at what she saw.

Gone was the wild, unruly, bushy hair that she had known all her life. Now it was replaced by soft silky curls that hung around her face in sleek strands. She leaned closer to the mirror in amazement unable to believe what she was seeing. Her hair looked not only looked manageable, but it looked rather pretty.

She reached up with a slightly shaky hand and ran her fingers through it, her eyes widening with delight when they didn't get caught. "How is this possible?"

Maj reached a hand out and ran her fingers through Hermione's hair. "I know you think you have ugly hair, Hermione. But really you just had too much of it. I cut away the excess so that the curls could breath and take definition. I also cut it a bit shorter so that you wouldn't have so much hair weighing it down." Maj released the curls and they sprang perfectly back into place to Hermione's delight. "Do you like it?"

Hermione spun around a bright smile on her lips. For a moment she was unab;e to speak from pleasure. "I love it." She flung her arms around her friend's neck "Thank you so much."

"We're not done yet." Thora broke in, taking hold of Hermione's arm and tugging her back out into the bedroom and pushing her into the chair once again.

Shaking her head Ester sank down on the foot of the bed again. "I think I'll sit this out."

Maj rolled her brown eyes. "You're no fun, you know that?"

Ester held her hands up defensively. "Leave me be. I thought she looked just fine the way she was."

It was Thora's turn to roll her eyes. "Of course she looked _fine_ before, we're just enhancing what she already has."

"Yes, well. I'll just sit here and read." She picked a book up from Hermione's bedside table and settled against the headboard. "Let me know when you're done."

"Ester," Hermione moaned. "You promised me you would watch and make sure they didn't do anything drastic."

Her friend's piercing hazel eyes appeared over the edge of the book, one brow arched high. "And I thought you, of all people, wouldn't be the kind of person who changes their appearance in the hope of impressing a boy." Ester stared at her pointedly.

"I'm not trying to change myself to impress a boy." Hermione snapped slightly annoyed. She brushed her silky hair over her shoulder. "I don't have to change anything. I've already caught his attention haven't I?"

Ester stared deeply at her friend for a moment before sighing heavily and shaking her head. The hazel eyed girl snapped the book closed. "I think I'm going to go get ready myself. I'll see you in a few hours."

The Bulgarian girl tossed the book onto the middle of the bed before she turned and strode from the room, closing the door smartly behind her. Hermione looked between her two other friends in confusion.

"What was that about?"

Maj and Thora shrugged simultaneously but shared a look over Hermione's curly head when she slumped in her chair slightly put out. They both had their suspicion as to what was bothering Ester however they were both unwilling to voice their opinion. They loved Hermione and they loved Bjorn, but they all knew things wouldn't work out between the two. As Ester had confided in them a few weeks back when she learned that Bjorn and Hermione were going to the Halloween Ball together, Bjorn was a great guy, but he wasn't the one for Hermione.

"Come on." Thora patted Hermione on the back causing her to sit up straighter. "Let's finish you up so that Maj and I can get ready as well." Hermione nodded and the two girls stepped over to where their bags were leaning against her bed. Taking hold of the straps they upended them over her bed, tipping a mass of products onto the snow white comforter.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Oh God." She moaned when Thora pulled out several shades of lipstick and Maj a compact of eye color, "What have I gotten myself into?"


	8. The Halloween Ball

Chapter 8: The Halloween Ball

Hermione snapped her door closed, putting an end to the pestering sound of a beak taping determinedly at her window and joined her friends at the end of the corridor near the stirs. Ester, Maj and Thora were already waiting when Hermione arrived, her annoyance at the pestering bird evaporating at the sight of her friends in their dress finest.

Sensing her approaching, Ester turned to scold Hermione for being late but the words died in her mouth as she caught sight of her friend for the first time since leaving her room. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers at the dramatic change in her friend's appearance.

"You…you look…beautiful." She stammered, gapping at Hermione in disbelief. She ran an appraising eye over her friend, something close to jealousy flashing behind her eyes for the briefest of moments. "Even with that stuff all over your face." Her words almost biting despite the jovial tone she said them with.

"Thanks for you support, Ester." Hermione said uncertainly as she fell into step behind her friends who had already turned to make their way down the stairs in search of their dates.

Thora led the group dressed in form fitting robes of softest pink. Her strawberry-blond hair was piled at the top of her head in a cornet of intricate braids, sprigs of pink baby's-breath imbedded in her hair, enhancing the shinny locks.

Maj was dressed dramatically in robes of the deepest purple with silver trimming. She wore her hair long and straight, caught back in two berets. Simple silver hoops hung flatteringly from her ears and a single chain with a silver moon charm dangled from around her neck.

Ester was next. She wore robes of stunning emerald green that slithered around her body like shimmering silk. She wore her long black hair in a simple plait down her back. At her ears she wore tiny emerald stones and around her neck was suspended a slightly larger green stone that glowed gently in the candle light.

As she walked Hermione patted at the folds in her robes, brushed away imaginary dust, and ran her fingers through her hair making certain every strand was in place, thinking it would help calm her fraying nerves but to her horror found that her anxiety was rising. When she had seen the full effect of Maj and Thora's hard work she had thought she had looked surprisingly pretty, but now she feared that there might be some truth to Ester's statement. It wasn't normal for her to wear make-up or fuss with her hair. After seeing her reflection she had even considered making it a habit to try a little harder, but now... Ester didn't seem to like it, and she valued Ester's opinion almost as much as she did Harry, Ginny and Ron's, and they had always thought she looked fine. And Bjorn must have or he wouldn't have asked her to the ball. Hermione staggered as another horrifying thought came into her head. What if Bjorn didn't like it? What if he thought she looked ridicules?

Ester had been watching Hermione out of the corner of her eye for the past five minutes and had seen her thoughts fly across her face in a torrent of emotions, the last being fear and self-doubt. She instantly regretted the comment she had made about Hermione's make-up. Despite her outward display of indifference, Hermione was extremely self conscious about her appearance, though none but her close friends were aware of that. It amused Ester at times that the things that most found attractive about Hermione, she hated about herself. She was curvaceous and lithe, had bright, intelligent eyes, flawless white skin and a full bottom lip, no doubt a cause of her constant gnawing on it. But all Hermione saw was a short girl, who was to curvy in some places and not curvy enough in others. She hated that her eyes were what she called plain mud brown and found that her mouth had much to be desired. And her once bushy locks were a constant source of torment.

The moment that Hermione's bottom lip was captured between her teeth Ester knew she had let the girl wallow to long in doubt. Taking pity on her she reached a hand out and placed in cautiously on Hermione's arm.

"I'm sorry about what I said before." Hermione looked over at her with uncertain brown eyes. "You really do look very nice this evening."

Hermione smoothed the bust of her robe uncertainly. "Do you think… do you think Bjorn will like it?"

Ester's eyes fell closed causing a resurgence in Hermione's fears. But these two were soon elevated by Ester slipping an assuring arm through hers, hugging it tight. "I think he'll be quiet taken."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes gleamed with hope.

"Really." Ester tilted her head guiding Hermione's focus to the right, startling her for she only now realized they had reached the landing at the head of the staircase leading down into the main foyer. And at the bottom of the stairs beaming up at her with pride was Bjorn dressed in formal robes of black with periwinkle ribbing around the cuffs, hem and collar.

Hermione stood frozen under Bjorn's appreciative stare as Thora and Maj made their way towards their dates. Thora blushed prettily at Peter Slovensky offered her a bouquet of pink roses that surprised her robes impeccably. Maj reached the landing and strode briskly towards her boyfriend, slipping her arm through Yorick's when she reached his side. Together they turned to watch the remaining girls make their way down the steps.

Ester left Hermione standing at the top of the stairs, descending with her head held high, a smile planted firmly on her lips. Despite having been asked by many of the Durmstrang boys to accompany them to the ball, Ester had declined deciding instead to go alone. When Hermione had asked why she explained that it didn't feel right going to the ball with a boy she didn't like. It was a date after all, and you should at least be attracted to him in order to say yes. Now, however, she felt slightly awkward at the proposition of spending the entire evening alone with a group of couples.

Ester crossed in front of Bjorn trying to make her way to the side and inadvertently broke Hermione's concentration making her realize that she had been staring at her date for several minutes now. Heat rising on her skin, she took the first step down the flight of stairs and found that her anxiety was melting away under his warm smile.

Bjorn for his part couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful girl who was gliding down the staircase towards him, a smile on her lips that he knew was meant just for him. She wore a charming robe of periwinkle blue that swirled around her body in delicate folds. She wore her mahogany hair half up leaving the now lighter ringlets to fall gracefully down her back and frame her face in soft tendrils. Her chocolate brown eyes were lined faintly in pencil with a shimmering of gold across her lids, enhancing their exotic color. The gloss on her lips, while having no added hue, caught the light of the candles floating in mid air, drawing Bjorn's focus to her luscious bottom lip.

Snapping to attention, Bjorn extended his hand which Hermione delightedly took, her heart catching as he brought her knuckles to his lips similarly to the way he had done when they first met. "You look stunning tonight, Hermione." His lips lingered on her soft skin and it wasn't until he released her hand that she realized she had been holding her breath.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as Bjorn tucked her hand in the crook of his arm nodding his head towards the doors the led to the dinning hall.

The group set off together, the couples falling into place beside each other, Ester taking a spot alone at the back of the group. While they walked her hazel eyes remained pinned on broad shoulders draped in elegant robes. She tilted her chin up forcing away the ache in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn't until they were all seated around one of the large, circle dinning tables that Ester finally looked away from the form she had been following and forced a pleasant smile on her lips. She looked around the table, taking note of where everyone was sitting. Directly to her right was Hermione and Bjorn, beside them was Yorick and Maj. Then Thora beside her date Peter. It was with a heavy heart that her eyes landed on the seat directly next to her. That was to be the seat of her date, if she had accepted one. Finding the chair to be offending in the extreme, she extracted her wand from her pocket and banished to the other side of the room, where it landed neatly in place beside a younger student whom she didn't recognize but who she realized was in search of a chair. He smiled his gratitude at her before moving the chair into place and sitting down.

Hermione looked about the room with interest as the group was getting settled. The hall wasn't arranged any different then it normally was. The large room was filled with the circle tables that seated up to twelve comfortably. Unlike normal, however, the tables were all draped with black, while the settings, goblets, utensils and linens were all a shimmering silver. Large jack-o-lanterns hovered in the mid air just above their heads, high enough where they wouldn't block anyone's view of their friends, but low enough to see by the light emanating from their toothy grins. Live bats fluttered about the room, swooping in dramatic arcs above their heads while the school ghosts popped out of random places in hopes of surprising the students into screaming. Hermione couldn't help but chuckle when a group of first years shrieked when the head of a female ghost appeared in the center of their table.

Hermione turned back to her own group when she felt a hand graze against hers. She smiled warmly when she saw the sheepish grin on Bjorn's face as he wrapped his massive paw around her slim fingers.

. "So, Hermione," Bjorn said shyly, his eyes darting madly about, falling anywhere but on her expectant face, "is there something different about your hair?"

"Yes." She beamed, thoroughly pleased that he had noticed. "Maj cut it." She patted the gentle curls primly. "Do you like it?"

Bjorn scrunched his eyes as he studied her hair more intently. "I love it." He said slapping the table as if giving it his stamp of approval.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she wound a strand of her newly cut hair around her index finger. "I rather like it myself."

"If you two are quiet done?" Ester huffed in exaggerated annoyance. "I'd like to eat my dinner, not loose it."

Hermione glanced over at Ester to see that while she and Bjorn had been…talking, food had appeared before them, all of them traditional Bulgarian dishes that Hermione had come to enjoy since she began attending Durmstrang. There was shopska salad consisting of tomato, cucumber, onion and peppers; shkembe chorba, a tripe soup; kebapche, minced meat rolls; banista, backed pumpkin pastry filled with cheese and meat and lastly for dessert crème caramel made from fresh milk, eggs and caramelized sugar.

Bjorn, Peter and Yorick dove at the food like hungry wolves, filling their plates until the food was spilling over the edge. Hermione's mouth fell open with surprise and disgust. She had grown use to the male half of the species' deplorable eating habits; she had been friends with Ron and Harry the last five years after all, and they weren't any better, but she assumed that Bjorn and the rest would be able to behave with at least slight decorum at a formal dinner.

Deciding that it was best just to ignore them and eat her own meal, Hermione reached forward for the shopska only to have Bjorn snatch it away and begin filling her plate for her. After scooping three large spoonfuls onto her platter he stopped and looked at her. "Is that enough?"

Hermione looked down at the huge mound of salad and tried to push away her annoyance. He was just trying to be polite after all, but really. She could fill her own plate. And did he really think that she could eat that much? Well, it looked like most of her meal would consist of shopska and little else. She forced a smile onto her face. "That's lovely, thank you."

Ester caught her eyes from across the table and she almost laughed at the knowing smirk she saw on her friend's insightful face. She rolled her eyes as she picked up her fork and slowly began to work away at the large pile of vegetables in front of her.

After an hour of friendly conversation between the seven friends, they had finally eaten their fill. Heaving a great sigh of satisfaction, Bjorn pushed his plate aside before stretching his arms high above his head. Forgetting her annoyance from earlier, Hermione watched, lips twitching, as his arm lowered and came to a rest along the back of her chair. She tried to keep the blush from staining her cheeks but she felt the heat rise along her skin just the same.

Hermione straightened in her chair when she saw Headmaster Zograf rise to his feet at the head table which, similar to Hogwarts, ran the length of the far wall. The students fell silent as he looked out over them, a warm smile lighting his eyes.

"How was your meal? I hope you found it satisfactory." A large number of the students, Bjorn included, called out in the affirmative. "Wonderful, wonderful." Zograf quieted them easily. "Seeing as we've satisfied your hunger for food lets now try to satisfy your hunger for entertainment." He clapped his hands and several tables in the center of the room disappeared leaving students looking quite startled and the rest laughing at the shocked expressions on their faces. With another clap the jack-o-lanterns hovering in the air moved to the side and music began to play in the hall as if blared through Muggle speakers.

As soon as the music started playing Thora and Peter stood up and moved towards the dance floor, joining several couples that were already there moving to the fast paced music. Maj and Yorick soon joined them.

Hermione settled back in her seat, looking at Bjorn out of the corner of her eye. She watched him shift awkwardly as he seemingly tried to decide something. Taking pity on him Hermione turned to ask him if he would like to dance.

His lips spread into a toothy grin that reminded Hermione distinctly of the jack-o-lanterns dangling above their heads. Bjorn bound to his feet hastily, knocking his chair over behind him with a loud crash. Hermione's left hand flew to her lips, stifling the laughter that was threatening to break loose. Bjorn's eyes snapped to her when he heard the faintest sound of a snicker escape through her fingers.

"Find that funny, do you?"

Hermione nodded, hand still covering her mouth, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Bjorn shrugged, "Then I suppose I'll have to give you something else to laugh about as well."

He reached out and snatched up her hand, pulling her roughly to her feet, towing her behind him as he wove his way through the remaining tables towards the dance floor. He dropped her hand when they reached the center of the group and instantly started moving his body to the music.

Within seconds Hermione's sides hurt from trying to restrain her laughter. Bjorn's arms and legs flailed about him in huge arches and curt jabs as he jumped from one spot to another his tongue peaking out of the corner of his mouth in what Hermione knew by now was a sure sign of his concentration. Tears of mirth leaked from her eyes as she nearly exploded with laughter.

Finally noticing that Hermione was still standing where he had left her and that she hadn't moved yet, Bjorn looked at her quizzically to find that she was literally shaking from the effort to withhold her laugher. He grinned mischievously at her as he continued to flail about spectacularly. "What?" He finally asked when she continued to stare at him.

"You look ridiculous."

His brow arched playfully. "You think?"

Hermione nodded emphatically.

"Well, that might be." His grin widened. "But I'm having a fun time doing it." This time when he looked at her it was with challenge, daring her to join him in his fun and make a fool out of herself. Never one to back down from a challenge Hermione jumped onto one foot and flailed her arms about in her best imitation of Bjorn's bizarre antics and to her surprise found that it was indeed quiet fun. She found herself laughing hysterically as the song came to an end. She collapsed against Bjorn who beamed down at her with pride.

"I told you it was fun."

Hermione smiled back up at him. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Their eyes met and locked and Hermione felt an intense pull in the pit of her stomach. She watched as his head began to lower and his eyes drifted closed. Hermione felt a fluttering in her stomach and wasn't entirely sure if it was excitement or apprehension. But before she could decide she heard a familiar voice call her name from behind.

She whipped around, consequently breaking free of Bjorn's arms, to be greeted with the sight of a man with a bulky frame walking towards her on and bowed legs.

Recognizing him instantly she broke into a run and flung her arms around his neck. "Viktor." His arms instantly wrapped around her, pulling her in close contact to his body.

Upon releasing her Victor Krum's face split into a broad smile. "How have you been Hermy?" He brushed a stray curl behind her ear. "I hope my country men have been treating you well."

"Oh everyone's been wonderful." She beamed up at him. "But how have you been? I haven't received an owl from you in weeks."

Victor's skin turned a harsh color of red. "I am sorry about that Hermione." He dug his toe awkwardly into the ground, appearing not at all like an international Quiditch star, but more like a self conscious teenager. "When you wrote me saying that you were coming to Bulgaria I knew I had to see you again. Two years is far too long." He took her hands in his large calloused ones. "So I sent a letter to Headmaster Zograf asking for permission to chaperone tonight. What is the use of being famous after all, if I can't pull any strings?" He stared at her with anxious eyes. "I hope that is alright?"

"Of course it's alright." She assured him. "I would have been very sad if I had left Bulgaria without seeing you."

Victor flashed her his most charming smile which sadly enough greatly resembled a sneer. "Then I am glad that I could accommodate."

The upbeat music changed into a softer tune and Viktor instantly reached a hand out to her. "Would you like to dance?"

Hermione hesitated a moment, casting her eyes to Bjorn who was waiting patiently a few steps away, but in that moment of hesitation Viktor took her hand and pulled her into the circle of his arms, sweeping her dramatically into step.

"Viktor, you do realize that I am here with a date."

The older Bulgarian looked over her shoulder to where Bjorn was sinking dejectedly into his seat at the table with Ester. "With Bjorn?" he asked, surprise evident on his face.

"Yes, with Bjorn."

Victor stared at the other man with narrowed, thoughtful eyes before chuckling at what he saw.

"What's so funny?"

He shook his head dramatically. "He is not the one for you."

Hermione stiffened instantly. "Why do you say that?"

"Because he is to much like your red haired friend Ron."

"What?" she came to a sudden stop in her surprise. "Bjorn is nothing like Ron." Her voice pitched higher in anger.

Viktor cast a skeptical eye between her and Bjorn then back to her. "No?" he pulled her back into the dance before he continued. "I suppose they are hidden by their differences." Victor watched the younger man appraisingly. "Bjorn is by far the better looking of the two."

Hermione bristled slightly, her annoyance rising unaware by her. "Why would you say that?"

Viktor took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Well for one, Ron is far too tall and gangly. Bjorn is shorter but he is better built."

"I'll have you know Ron's filled out quiet a bit since he started playing Quiditch and..."

"He's very pale." Viktor continued as if Hermione hadn't spoken. "And he has that horrible red hair."

"I happen to adore red hair." She said defiantly, turning her nose up.

The Bulgarian rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Why are you defending him? For several months now when you have been writing me you have said your friendship is over. That you don't know how you could forgive him."

Hermione turned her head away from his penetrating eyes. He was right of course. Why was she defending Ron? Perhaps it was because of up until about two months ago Ron had always defended her. The pair danced in silence a minute more before Viktor spoke once again.

"Do you want to know the real difference between Ron and Bjorn though?"

"No I…"

"Bjorn is of higher class. He comes from old money, he's been well educated all his life, and he's been taught how to treat a lady prauper."

Hermione pulled to a violent stop. Eyes blazing with furry she wrenched herself out of Viktor's hands. "How dare you?" her voice was chocked with rage.

"What?" his face was a mask of utter confusion.

"Just because Ronald and I are having problems does not give you the right to insult him and his family."

"I never…"

"The Weasleys might not have a lot of money," she jabbed him angrily in the chest, "but you would be hard pressed to find anyone on this planet as fine as them. They've taken Harry and me in without batting an eye despite the financial burden. You don't think he's good enough for me? I don't think you have that right. If anything I am not good enough for him. He is one of the most loyal, and courageous people I have ever met and…"

"He called you a Mudblood."

Hermione froze with her mouth open, halting in the middle of her passionate speech. Slowly she closed her mouth. "Yes he did." She finally admitted, shrugging her shoulders meekly, her skin a blaring shade of red. "I guess I am still in the habit of defending him. But that does not give you," she jabbed him painfully with her finger, "the right to insult his family. Ron and I may have had a falling out but I still consider the rest of the Weasleys as my second family. Don't insult them in front of me. No," she made a slashing movement with her hand, "don't insult them at all."

And with that she turned and stomped away ignoring Viktor's calls behind her. She strode purposefully towards the door, weaving her way through the tables with her head down as she muttered to herself about insufferable prats until she ran full into a large bodied mass.

"Excuse me!" She snapped before looking up to be confronted by Bjorn's grey eyes.

"Hermione?"

Her face softened instantly at his look of concern. "I'm sorry Bjorn. I…"

"What did he say to you?" he cut her off, staring ferociously over her shoulder at Krum who was weaving his way determinedly towards her. "If he did anything…"

Bjorn pushed at his sleeve, his hand fisted in a tight knot as he made to step around Hermione.

"Bjorn, no." she pushed against his chest with all her might, forcing him to stop and look down at her. "Could you please just take me for a walk?"

"A walk?" he asked with disbelief.

"Yes a walk." She tugged on his arm, dragging him towards the door. "I need to clear my head and I suspect the fresh air will be invigorating."

"Well all right." He complied, his head still turned to glare at Viktor as they made their way towards the door, feeling dislike grow for the man he had once considered a friend.

As soon as the pair slipped through the door leading outside, Bjorn wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist, protecting her from the chill that was already begging to creep in around them. Sighing contentedly Hermione leaned into his warmth and let it wash over her.

"Hermione?" He asked tentatively after they had completed one complete lap around the school. "Can I ask you what he said?"

She let out an annoyed breath, pushing the hair the wind had tore loose out of her eyes. "Nothing really. I just… Sometimes it amazes me how shallow and arrogant people can be."

Not knowing how to respond Bjorn let them slip into silence once more. When they completed another circuit of the building Bjorn ventured to speak again. "I'm sorry he ruined the evening for you."

Hermione glanced up at him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "I wouldn't say he ruined it." She blushed prettily under his gaze. "This has been rather nice hasn't it?"

As Hermione watched, Bjorn's eyes grew darker. He licked his lips drawing her attention to them. They parted slightly and began to descend towards her mouth. Her eyes grew wider and her heart beat faster as his mouth drew nearer. He was going to kiss her, any second now. Her heart raced frantically, but from excitement or apprehension she wasn't sure.

At the last moment she turned her head away and Bjorn's lips connected with her neck right below her ear. He let his lips linger there a moment before he pulled away.

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry Bjorn." She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "I'm just not… at this moment…I really like you, Bjorn," She finally managed. "I'm just not ready for that."

He smiled at her with reassurance, his hand coming up to cup her face tenderly. "That's all right, Hermione. I'm in no hurry."

Hermione smiled her gratitude and let Bjorn slip her arm through his.

"Are you ready to go back in?" He asked.

Hermione nodded once and let him lead her back into the party inside.


	9. Revelations

Chapter 9: Revelations

Ron covered his mouth with his large hand as his lips spread in an enormous yawn. The Halloween Feast last night had been brilliant. All his favorite foods had been served, the hall was magnificently decorated with pumpkins the size of small cars and live bats that flew lazily about. Everyone had been in a jovial mood, including the school ghosts who put together a spectacular display or aerial formations for the students' entertainment. Everyone was so happy and the mood was so relaxed that even Ron was able to forget his troubles for a few hours and enjoy the evening. He even set aside his differences long enough to ask Rane how they celebrate Halloween back in Bulgaria.

Rane had immediately began explaining to the attentive group around her how in Bulgaria Halloween was very important to witches and wizards because it celebrated the essences of what they were and how every year they had a magnificent feast followed by a Ball that lasted well into the night. At this point a scowl had marred Ron's relaxed face with the thought that Hermione had no doubt had a date to the ball and was more then likely enjoying herself with the bloody git at that very moment. The only consolation he felt was the knowledge that this time the Ball had been _Vicky_ free.

Ron scratched distractedly at his chin as he looked about the room for signs of Harry and Ginny. He spotted his sister sitting at the other end of the long table with her fellow fifth years. Sensing someone watching her Ginny turned and caught sight of Ron. She smiled warmly at him before turning back to Colin Creevy who was trying to gain her attention.

Ron continued his search of the hall but knew he wasn't going to find Harry there. He had had another nightmare last night. They didn't come often but when they did they plagued him with a vengeance. Which was why Ron had woke at three in the morning to the sound of Harry thrashing about madly in bed, calling Sirius's name in agony.

Knowing his friend would be embarrassed when he was shaken awake, Ron prodded him sharply in the back before diving back into his own bed, pulling the covers over his head a split second before Harry awoke, bolting upright in bed. Harry of course knew that it was Ron that had woken him, but was thankful none the less for his pretense at slumber.

Harry hadn't gotten much sleep after that. Ron had lain awake with him for several hours listening to the sound of Harry struggling not to cry. When Ron had fallen asleep around five in the morning he was well aware that Harry was still awake. Which is why this morning when he woke up and saw that his friend was sleeping soundly, he let him be and hade made his way down to breakfast alone.

Ron was just finishing off his third helping of eggs and kippers when there was a fluttering of wings high above. He looked up to see a stunningly clear sky with a small splattering of clouds and the first swoop of owls as they flew in through the high windows.

He waited hopefully for a full ten minutes until the last owl swooped in and out of the room, but as he had expected not one had flown to him. He knew he shouldn't let his hopes up, Hermione hadn't written to him yet, why would she start now? But he couldn't help hoping every morning that that would be the day that Hermione would relent and write to him. But alas it was not to be and he felt the all too familiar pain swell in his chest.

Ron swung his legs over the long bench and started to push himself up when a conversation a few seats over caught his attention.

"Are you sure she's talking about _our _Hermione?" Parvati asked incredulously as Ron sank back into his seat.

Rane rolled her large amber eyes at the other girl. "How many Hermione's do you think there are in Bulgaria?" She turned back to the large scroll that had arrived for her minutes ago.

"It's just that…"

"What?" Rane glanced up when Parvati didn't continue.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I won't deny that Hermione is rather pretty. But honestly, how can anyone like Bjorn fancy her?" Ron's heart clenched in his chest. Bjorn? Who the hell was Bjorn? "She's so dry and bossy." Parvati continued, unaware the Ron was listening, his anger rising as she belittled his Hermione. "She thinks she's so smart." She brushed her hair off her shoulder in a manner that seemed very smug. "And it's horrible the way she strung Ron on like that. And you can be certain I'll be telling her that the first chance I have."

Rane's eyes scanned the parchment a moment longer before she rolled it up and tucked it into her pocket. "Well, despite your opinion of her my countrymen seem to find her very attractive." She took a bite of her breakfast sausage giving Parvati a chance to mull over her words as she chewed and swallowed. "Ester says that she and Bjorn were having a lovely time until Viktor arrived and…"

"Wait," Parvati held up a hand to stop her. "Viktor? As in Viktor Krum? She's still talking to him?"

"She was until last night." Ron's hands fisted in furry under the table. "Ester doesn't know many of the details but apparently Viktor said something that set her off and now she isn't talking to him."

"I don't believe it."

"Not only that. It seems by the end of the evening Viktor and Bjorn had at each other over her, right in the middle of the dance floor. They only got a few swings in before Hermione managed to separate them, but Zograf was not happy. Sent Viktor right home and Bjorn to his room for the rest of the night."

Parvati sighed dramatically as she let her head fall into her hands. "I wish I had two blokes fighting over me. Do you think Hermione will continue to see Bjorn after what happened?"

Ron couldn't stomach anymore. He pushed away from the table angrily, not wanting to hear the answer to that particular question, knocking the table and sending a few empty goblets tipping over. Head's whipped around at the commotion and Parvati and Rane gasped when they realized that Ron had obviously heard everything they had said.

"Ron!" Rane bound to her feet, calling after his rapidly retreating back. "Ron wait!"

But he hadn't heard her he was already through the massive double doors, stomping his way up the marble stairs to the floors above. He had just reached the second landing when he heard the pattering of feet behind him.

"Ron?" Ginny pulled him to a stop when she caught up with him. "Ron what happened?"

Blue eyes narrowed with realization when he saw the guilty look on Ginny's face. "Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"Ron I…"

"You should have told me." He seethed through his teeth. "It would have been easier if I had heard it from a friend instead of over hearing Parvati and Rane gossiping."

"Ron…" her mouth gapped open, not knowing what to say. "I…"

"How long has she been seeing Bjorn?" Ginny's cheeks reddened as she tried to avoid his glossy blue eyes. "Ginny. How long?"

"It was their first date last night." She finally admitted closing her eyes against the agony she saw in her brother's eyes. "I swear. There's been nothing beyond that."

Ron's jaw quivered slightly. "And does she really fancy him?"

"Ron I don't think…"

"Gin," he stopped her. "Just answer the question. Does she really fancy him?"

The red haired girl pressed her lips together as she contemplated her brother's question. After several minutes that felt like a hundred to Ron she answered. "Yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes and no. If you ask me, Bjorn is a replacement for what she really wants."

"Which is?"

Ginny tilted her head to the side as she pinned her brother with a pitying look. "You know what it is, Ron. You just have to help her remember."

Ron turned away to stare absently at the wall. After several minutes of heavy silence, Ginny placed a tentative hand on his arm. "You're not upset with me are you?"

Ron sighed heavily as he turned his head to look at his baby sister. "No. I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at all. I just wish…"

"I know." Ginny wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug like she use to give him when they were younger.

Despite her annoyance at Bjorn for the events of the night of the Halloween Ball, Hermione spent every spare moment after that with him. They sat beside each other in every class they shared and Bjorn walked her to all classes they did not. They ate every meal together, excluding the nights of Quiditch practice. Bjorn was Keeper for one of the six school teams. Because there were no houses like at Hogwarts, teams were run by captains and new players were chosen by draft pick. A team's rank from the previous season determined their order at drafting during the tryouts. But the did manage to eat together most nights. And when they did Bjorn continued to fill her plate for her, and while it annoyed Hermione to no ends, she couldn't bring herself to tell him. He was just trying to be sweet after all.

When she worked on homework, which was a good portion of the time, Bjorn worked steadily alongside her, distracting her frequently by bumping different parts of his body against her. She found it sweet at first, but as November passed into December she found it more and more annoying. Semester finals were quickly approaching and she was determined to achieve top marks on all tests. She didn't know how that was going to be possible with him distracting her all the time, Harry and Ron had learned long ago to leave her alone when she got like this. She thought she was rather transparent in her wished, but Bjorn seemed oblivious. Hermione could not understand why he hadn't gathered that yet.

She would have told him off for it, but every time she got close he would do something incredibly lovable like fetching her a snack from the kitchens or quieting the group when they got too loud while studying or even staying up late with her while she studied, despite his insatiable need for sleep. She couldn't get mad at him and she couldn't yell at him because she knew he was only trying to help.

They were in their usual study room one week before the end of term, and Hermione was thoroughly distracted once again. She gnawed on the end of her quill as she watched Bjorn crouch over his roll of parchment. She was preoccupied and for once it wasn't entirely Bjorn's fault for he was studiously working away. No, what distracted her this evening were her own thoughts.

Hermione had made a decision the night of the ball after Viktor had voiced his disturbing assessment. She wasn't going to let Ron interfere with her life any longer. It was clear to her that the magnitude of her affection was one sided and as such she refused to waste anymore of her time on a lost cause. She would move on, and Bjorn was the perfect candidate to move on with. He was sweet and kind and _nothing _like Ronald Weasley. Her only problem now was Bjorn didn't seem to want to move their relationship any farther then it already was.

Hermione knew he was just trying to be considerate, not wanting to push her any farther then she was willing to go. But despite herself she was an old fashioned girl when it came to relationships. It was deeply ingrained in her, no doubt by her grandmother who was extremely traditional, that the boy should make the first move. So now she found herself in the predicament of waiting for Born to get up enough gumption to go ahead and kiss her.

Sighing with exasperation Hermione looked away from her… could she call him her boyfriend? They had only ever been on one date. Her eyes flickered over the last notes she had taken and found them completely incomprehensible. She scratched the line out before glancing down at her watch. Her eyes bulged and grew to the size of saucers. It was nearly midnight. She slammed her book closed abruptly, causing her friends scattered around the room to look at her in surprise.

"Sorry." She apologized as she stuffed books and parchment into her sack. "I didn't realize how late it was."

"I'll walk you to your room." Bjorn offered but before he had fully risen from his chair Hermione had already dashed out of the room.

Racing through the empty, candle lit corridors she glanced down at her watch again. She had exactly five minutes until she was suppose to talk with Harry and Ginny.

When she reached her room she flung her bag aside and ran to her desk where she kept her mirror hidden. She pulled open the third drawer, moved aside some parchment and saw that the mirror was already glowing a bright blue. She sat down in her chair and propped the mirror against two large tomes before tapping her wand against it. Instantly Harry and Ginny's faces appeared in the smooth glass.

"Harry. Ginny." She greeted. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine." Ginny waved aside Hermione's expected question, moving on to more important matters. "What's it to be then? Are you coming home or not?"

"I just received word back from my parents this morning. They definitely want me to come home to celebrate Christmas." Harry and Ginny's mouths spread into grins of delight. "So now the question is how are we going to get the two of you out of Grimmauld place without Ron noticing?"

"What?" Harry nearly shouted, his fingers tightening angrily on the glass. "Hermione you can't seriously think…"

"Don't say one word more." She interrupted, her own anger simmering just behind her eyes. "Did you honestly believe I would agree to see _him_?"

"Hermione," Ginny stared down at her friend wearing a mask of disbelief. "It's Christmas."

"Exactly! It's Christmas and I don't won't to ruin the holidays for everyone by getting into another horrific row with Ronald. It'll be much easier if I just don't see him."

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, loosing all patience, surprising the two girls as much as himself. "This has gone on long enough. Do you have any idea what this is doing to everyone? Ron hasn't been himself for months. He mopes around, hardly says a word to anyone and barely notices the harem of girls that follow him around wherever he goes because he's to busy thinking about you and how badly he screwed up. And think of what this is doing to me and Ginny. Do you know how it feels to lie to your best friend everyday? To see him sad and hurt and not be able to do anything? I hate it Hermione. I hate _this._ Ron's trying why aren't you?"

Hermione stared back at them through the pane of glass, her chocolate brown eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Maybe when you've had _your _heart ripped out of your chest and trampled on you'll understand." Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to maintain some semblance of control. "It hurt, Harry. It was excruciatingly painful. And this is the only way I now how to deal with it. I'm not ready to see him. And I'm not ready to talk to him. Please don't try and make me."

Harry felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't meant to make Hermione cry. He just…

"I just want things back the way they were." He said voicing his thoughts.

"Harry. Ginny. I so desperately want to see you both." She shook her head. "But I can't face him. Not yet."

"Hermione," Ginny scooted closer, taking a more predominant position so that her friend could see her. "Please come to Grimmauld Place for Christmas." She pleaded. "It won't be the same without you?"

Hermione bit down hard on her bottom lip, the turmoil of her thoughts painting a vivid picture on her face. "Can you promise me I won't ever have to be alone with him?"

"No, Hermione." Ginny moaned with exasperation. "I can't promise that. I have no idea what's going to happen or what Ron might do when he sees you."

"Then do you think you can find a way to get him out of the house for a few hours so that I can stop by and give you both your gifts?"

"On Christmas?"

"Of course not." Her voice held an edge of annoyance. "I wouldn't dream of separating your family on Christmas. I was thinking some other day. Ron will never notice"

"I don't know. Do you think he's really thick enough to fall for that?"

Hermione screeched and fumbled for her wand, taping it sharply against the mirror so that it went blank. Harry and Ginny flung around to find Ron leaning against the wall of the boy's staircase, arms crossed in a daunting, menacing pose, his eyes narrowed, gleaming a turbulent shade of blue.


	10. Preparations

Chapter 10: Preparations

He was a frightening sight to behold. His defined muscles were taught and tense, his mouth was set in a thin, grim line, his body was tilted slightly towards them like a lion readying to pounce. His bright red hair stood up in places where he had in his aggravation run his fingers through it, giving him the look of one who had just come out of a fight the victor. His eyes blazed cold with furry and betrayal sending a chill of dread down Harry and Ginny's spine. For the first time since he had meat Ron he really feared that his friend might hit him.

"Ron…"

The intense look of loathing Ron turned Harry's way when he began to speak instantly silenced him.

"You were supposed to be my best friend." He spoke with a voice that was low, lifeless and cold.

"I am."

Ron shook his head, tears of humiliation, betrayal and furry gathering in the turbulent orbs. "You lied to me."

"Ron…"

"I've been trying…and you…how could you not tell me?"

"Ron," Ginny's own voice was chocked with tears. "We wanted to tell you but…"

"But she made you promise, right?" Ginny and Harry nodded feebly, knowing it was a woolly excuse at best. "Like she was trying to make you promise not to tell me she was coming home?"

"Ron we weren't going to…"

"Save it, Gin." Ron cut her off angrily. "All of this time I have been trying to make things right. And I thought that through all of this I at least had your friendship and support."

"You do!" the pair cried together, but Ron continued as if he hadn't heard them.

"But really you've been working against me."

"No. Ron we…"

"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY BEST FRIEND!" He shouted efficiently cutting Harry off. "YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOYT HER! YOU KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN TRYING TO DO! I KNOW YOU DO! I KNOW YOU SAW THEM!"

"Ron," Harry implored. "I've been _trying_ to make her see reason!"

"Yeah?" Ron snorted with disbelief. "How do you expect me to believe that when everything you've said to me since August has been a lie?" He took several deep breaths trying desperately to bring his body and emotional turmoil under control. He was determined that he would not give Harry or Ginny the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"Do what ever you want." He turned his back on them. "I don't care anymore."

"Ron!" Harry ran forward and took hold of his arm, determined to make him stay and listen.

Ron whipped about, tearing his arm free whilst pinning Harry with a look so full of hatred and disgust that it caused him to stumble back in surprise. "Leave me the bloody hell alone." He seethed through his tightly gritted teeth.

Harry watched, heart sinking as Ron turned and walked up the spiraling staircase ignoring his calls after him.

"Shite! Shite! Shite! Shite! Shite!" Harry sank onto the bottom step, his head falling into his hands. "How the fuck did I let this happen?"

"Harry?" Ginny placed a gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked up at her, his green eyes filled with an odd mixture of furry and sadness.

"Did you know," he began in a voice chocked with tears, "that Ron has been writing to Hermione every day since she left?"

Ginny shook her head dumbly as she too sank onto the step beside him. "No. I had no idea."

"Neither did I. Not until two days ago when Ron and I were getting ready for Quiditch practice and he reached under his bead for his broom. When he pulled it out he knocked over a box and spilled…I don't even now how many letters on the floor. He tried to pick them up and hide them before I saw them, but… I didn't even know what they were at first. I know I shouldn't have but… I went back later when he was studying. I think there has to be almost one for every day since she left. And every single one has come back unopened. Every…single…one."

Ginny's eyes widened. "I had no idea." In a moment of clarity she understood her brothers furry at them. "That's what he meant when he said you know what I've been trying to do." Harry nodded. "Poor Ron. Every day and not a single response?"

Harry nodded again as his head sank further towards his knees. "I wish I had never told Dumbledore I was all right with Hermione going to Bulgaria." He looked up at Ginny with mournful green eyes. "I thought things would just work themselves out, you know? I thought it was going to be just like all their other rows. Ron was a git and said something stupid, Hermione wouldn't talk to him for a while to teach him a lesson, he would realize he had been a prat and she would forgive him. That's the way it has always been. But this time…" his eyes glazed with tears. "I don't think it's going to work out this time." Harry's heart clenched tightly with the realization. "I don't think we'll ever all be friends again. Ron and Hermione have hurt each other too much and I…I really screwed up with Ron." Sensing Harry's need for comfort, Ginny scooted closer resting her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"He'll forgive you eventually."

"Will he?" Harry looked down into Ginny's coffee brown eyes. "During the Tri-Wizard Tournament it took me almost getting eaten by a fire breathing dragon for him to come around and forgive me, and I didn't even do anything then. What am I going to have to do this time for him to forgive me? Throw myself at Voldemort's feet and beg him to kill me?"

"Harry." Ginny's head snapped up angrily. "That's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be." Harry rubbed his eyes angrily with her fingers beneath the rim of his glasses. "You don't know what it was like fourth year. Life was hell without having my best mate."

"So, what do we do?" Ginny laid her head solemnly back on his shoulder. "Do you suggest we stop speaking to her?"

"No." He said immediately though it sounded to Ginny as if it were a bit reluctant in coming. "Of course not. That wouldn't solve anything. It would only cause more problems."

"So what do you suggest?" She prompted.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but found that he was completely devoid of all ideas. His mouth closed and his shoulders hunched around his ears as he hung his head between his hands in despair. The pair sat their silently for a few minutes in deep thought, but in the end were both at a loss over what to do about the situation between Ron and Hermione.

"I guess," Harry said slowly, "that we have to find a way to get them together over the holiday and force them to talk." He suggested lamely.

"Oh sure." Ginny rolled her coffee brown eyes. "That's a brilliant idea. Only one problem; there is no way that we are going to get them in the same room at the same time. I'm sure we could get Ron to go with us to Hermione's house but she would slam the door in our faces and I'm fairly sure there's no way we can convince her to come with us to where Ron is waiting."

"Well we have to do something!" Harry shouted angrily bounding to his feet and pacing aimlessly before her. "I can't take this anymore, Gin."

"I know Harry." Ginny's slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling him tight against her body and resting her cheek on his shoulder blade. "I know. We'll think of something. We always do."

Up in the sixth year dorm Ron was sitting at the foot of his bed staring at his favorite picture of him and Hermione. The laughter and sparkle in her eyes as Ron spun them around tore painfully at his heart.

Wiping angrily at the tears leaking down his face he tossed the picture on the bed before standing up and moving to his trunk. He knelt before it, unlatched the closures and opened the lid. He rifled around amongst the contents until he found what he was searching for. He pulled out a square box that was closed tight with a lid. He closed the trunk and placed the box on top before he crouched down to find another box stuffed under his bed. This too he pulled out and placed on the lid of his trunk.

Sighing heavily Ron sank onto the end of his bed and pulled the lid off the first box. He removed the contents of both boxes, laying them in front of him so he could look upon it all. After several minutes of silently staring Ron picked up the bundle of envelopes and set it at the bottom of the square box and began to cover it with a small book, scraps of paper and several pictures.

When the box was full he picked up the lid to put it back into place but stopped. Setting it down he turned around and tenderly lifted the picture he had tossed aside off the counterpane. He watched for several silent moments as the Ron and Hermione in the picture spun around and around. When he could take the torment no more he placed the picture face up at the top of the pile and slowly lowered the lid into place. When the lid was secure he tapped it with his wand making the box seamless.

Sighing heavily he lifted the lid of his trunk once more, set the box inside and let it fall with a loud thud.

Bjorn sat in Hermione's desk chair and watched solemnly as she packed the last of her clothing into her trunk for the Christmas holiday. "I still don't see why you can't come and stay with my family over Christmas." He burst out when Hermione had gotten her trunk closed.

Sighing heavily she turned to face him, arms crossed moodily in front of her chest. "Bjorn we've been over this." She said shortly. "I haven't seen my mum and dad since the begging of summer holiday. I haven't seen Harry, Ro…an… and Ginny since August. I'm going home."

Bjorn slumped in her chair, arms crossed over his chest, his face marred with a deep scowl. She knew Bjorn was put out but she couldn't help but chuckle slightly. He was so cute when he pouted like that.

"Bjorn." Her voice was soft as if comforting a small child. "I'll be back before the start or term."

"I know." He sulked grudgingly. "But I've gotten use to having you around. What am I going to do for three weeks without you?"

Hermione patted his cheek playfully. "You managed sixteen years without me." She laughed. "I think you can survive three weeks."

A roguish gleam appeared in Bjorn's eyes a split second before he took hold of her wrist and tugged her into his lap. Hermione squealed as she landed, pushing against his chest as she struggled to regain her feet. "Bjorn, let me up."

"What will you give me if I do?"

Hermione stilled as she focused on his handsome face. She tilted her head to the side, her face contorted in exaggerated consideration. "Hmm." She bit her bottom lip playfully seductive as she contemplated. "Would a kiss be a fair price?"

"A kiss?" His eyes arched.

"Umhm." She nodded. "One kiss in exchange for my freedom."

Bjorn's cheeks flushed a bright red, his gray eyes blazed with excitement. "I think you got yourself a deal."

His eyes drifted closed and his lips puckered slightly in anticipation. Hermione smiled with delight as she slowly began to lean in. Even with his eyes closed Bjorn could feel her moving in closer and closer until her lips were only a breath away from his. He could feel the soft puffs of air on his lips and it sent shivers down his spine. She leaned in and turned her head at the last moment so that her lips made contact with his cheek right at the corner of his mouth.

Hermione burst into laughter when his eyes snapped open and he pinned her with an almost heart wrenchingly, dejected look. "Let me up." She tapped him twice on the shoulder as she struggle not to laugh.

"_That_ wasn't a _real_ kiss." He sulked with protest.

"Let me up, Bjorn." Her voice rang with laughter. "You agreed on one kiss. It was never specified where the kiss would be."

"No," his arms tightened around her waist. "I think I'll keep you here until I get a proper kiss."

Hermione's heart fluttered with excitement. This was it. He really wanted to kiss her. "Bjorn," she chuckled with laughter as he leaned in following her head with his lips as she teasingly tried to duck away. "My portkey leaves in a few minutes. I have to go."

"Not until I get my kiss." He persisted, leaning in quickly, almost making contact with her lips. **B**ut Hermione was too quick for him and when she pulled away it was with surprising force that knocked them both of the chair.

Reacting instinctively Bjorn tucked in and rolled so that he took the impact of the fall. When they landed Hermione was on top sprawled across his chest, legs on either side of his hips, hands on the floor on either side of his head. Hermione laughed as she pushed her hair out of her eyes so that she could better see the young man lying beneath her.

Bjorn was staring at her with his intense gray eyes. It was a look so penetrating and focused that she felt like he was staring into her very soul. The laughter died on her lips as she heard her blood race past her ears and felt her heart quicken in her chest, beating so loud she was convinced he could hear it as well. Reaching up Bjorn cupped her cheek and began directing her lips towards his and Hermione was powerless to stop it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted slightly so that her tongue could dart across to moistening them.

"Miss Granger?" A hairs breath away, Hermione's head snapped towards the door where there was the distinct sound of knocking against the heavy panel. "Miss Granger?" Headmaster Zograf's voice came from the other side of her door. "Are you ready to leave?"

Blushing with mortification, Hermione pushed fiercely against Bjorn's chest breaking the strong hold he had on her. She rose swiftly to her feet and reached down to give Bjorn a hand as she called out, "Just a moment Headmaster." When they were both on their feet, their clothes properly straightened and Bjorn back in the safety of Hermione's desk chair she went to the door and opened if for the Headmaster.

"I'm sorry, Professor Zograf."

The older wizard looked between Bjorn, who was now examining his fingernails with great interest, and Hermione who was still deeply flushed and breathing heavily. His left brow arched, his eyes twinkled and a smile played on his lips. "That's all right, Miss Granger. I understand."

Hermione flushed even more for she had the distinct feeling that he did in fact understand, perhaps all to well. The young witch looked down at her floor and wrung her hands anxiously in front of her.

Sensing the young witch's discomfort, Zograf took pity on her. "Are you ready to go?" Hermione glanced longingly at Bjorn before she nodded in the affirmative. "Splendid." He clapped his hands enthusiastically together. "Why don't you finish saying your goodbyes to Mr. Ivailo while I prepare your portkey?"

As Hermione turned to Bjorn she saw the Headmaster wave his wand at her trunk. It glowed bright and shook for a moment then went still. Bjorn was now standing in front of her. Reaching out he took her hands in his.

"Enjoy your time with your family, Hermione. And have fun with your friends." His eyes narrowed. "But perhaps not too much fun." He reached up and playfully wrapped a curl around his finger. "I am going to be here, after all, completely miserable without you."

Hermione chuckled sweetly as she tousled his hair. "You'll be fine." She leaned forward and planted another kiss firmly on his cheek. "Happy Christmas, Bjorn."

"And you, Hermione." He released her hand that he still held captured and watched as she turned back to the Headmaster who was smiling at them merrily.

"All right, Miss Granger. Your trunk will take you to the International Porting Station. I believe you know what to do once you are there?"

"Yes of course. " She nodded.

"Wonderful. Then have a safe trip. I'll see you next term."

"Thank you, Headmaster, for everything."

Zograf nodded. "Think nothing of it Miss Granger. It's been a pleasure having you here."

Hermione sighed and gave the room one last look. "See you next term." She reached down and grasped the handle of her trunk and felt the familiar pull behind her navel and she was gone spinning madly through space.


	11. The Tortures of Ron Weasley

Chapter 11: The Tortures of Ron Weasley

For perhaps the first time since Harry started attending Hogwarts he wished that he was either staying at the castle for Christmas or even worse, going back to Privet Drive, which of course would never happen. No, instead he was ridding the Hogwarts Express on his way to King's Cross Station and then on to Grimmauld Place where he would be spending the few weeks of Christmas Holiday with the Weasleys. Normally, Harry had to admit, he would not consider this a bad thing. The Weasleys were after all his favorite family in the world, and the entire Weasley family, excluding Percy, would be home for Christmas this year which would normally make for a very enjoyable holiday. But these were not normal circumstances.

Ever since the night Ron had discovered the mirror he had completely ignored Harry's existence. It was fourth year all over again, though this time Harry felt he couldn't begrudge Ron his silence.

It was horrible. Over the past week Ron had avoided him and Ginny when at all possible. He sat next to Neville in nearly every class, he no longer ate meals in the great hall but instead made frequent visits to the kitchens. And to top it all of he had filched Harry's map out of his trunk so that when he went off on his own, which he did quiet often now, Harry was unable to go looking for him. Even with his invisibility cloak it was impossible to sneak up on Ron because of course he had the map and cold see Harry coming. He never appeared in the boy's tower before Harry fell asleep and was always gone by the time Harry woke up.

Harry had tried to corner Ron earlier on the journey, being on the train there was no where for him to hide, or so Harry had thought. He found Ron sitting in one of the first cars on the train with Seamus, Dean, Parvati, Lavender and to Harry's great surprise, Rane.

"Ron?" Harry had asked. "could I talk to you?"

Ron's blue eyes narrowed on him. "No. I don't think so." He rose to his feet and pushed Harry into the corridor, striding right past him to the left and slipping into the prefect's car, a place that Harry wasn't allowed to go. Harry turned back to the group of five, his face blushed with embarrassment, unsure of what to say.

"Harry," Rane stopped him as he was turning, head shaking, to leave. "May I ask what's wrong between you and Ron?"

Seamus, Lavender and Parvati, who were always craving a bite of juicy gossip, leaned closer to him to make sure that they didn't miss anything. Harry contemplated for a moment not telling them, but decided in the end that it didn't matter. Everyone knew of Ron's affection for Hermione and they also knew that he wasn't speaking to Harry so really what harm could the truth do.

"I've been talking to Hermione almost every day and I didn't tell him. He found out about a week ago and he's still mad at me."

"Perhaps I should go talk top him." Lavender offered as she rose eagerly to her feet. "Maybe I can smooth things over for you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think you can help very much, Lavender. Besides you can't." he nodded his head to the side. "He's in the Prefect's car."

"Oh." She sank back into her seat dejectedly.

"Would you like to join us, Harry?" Rane asked, indicating the seat that Ron had been previously occupying.

Harry smiled his gratitude but declined. "I have to get back to my own car."

Rane nodded. "Have a wonderful holiday."

"Hang on." Harry stopped halfway turned, his gaze narrowed on her. "Aren't you going home for the holidays?"

Rane shook her head sadly. "No. My mother and father are taking a trip to Greece this year and I would have to either stay home alone or go stay with my cousin. Her parents are going with mine. So," she shrugged her dainty shoulders. "When Parvati asked me to come home with her over the holidays I decided it would be more fun and educational to celebrate a British Christmas with friends then a Bulgarian Christmas alone."

"Speaking of which," Lavender looked at Harry coyly out of the corner of her eye, "is…is Hermione coming home for Christmas?"

Harry nodded curtly. "She and her parents will be spending Christmas day with the Weasleys and me. It's was just decided the other day." The hopeful look on Lavender's face dimmed to extreme displeasure.

"So she and Ron have made up then?"

"No." the occupants of the car could sense Harry's displeasure acutely. "But hopefully that will change by the start of term. Personally I would love to have my two best friends on speaking terms again." Harry glanced down at his wrist watch. "I've been gone longer then I planned. I really have to be going. Have a wonderful holiday."

The group echoed back his farewell as he let the door to their compartment slide closed. Harry made his way slowly towards the back of the train where Ginny, Neville and Luna were waiting. He walked with his head down, shoulders hunched, and his hands in his pocket. When he had made the trip down to this end of the train he had hoped he would be making the walk back with Ron.

"Shite." He cursed angrily halfway down the train kicking the side panel. "Shite. Shite, Shite."

He could feel his anger rising with every step he took. How had things gotten so out of control? First the fighting, then Hermione leaving for Bulgaria, now Ron wasn't speaking to him. He was sick of it. And to think, after Sirius died he had thought his life couldn't possibly get any worse. But here he was wrong again. And on top of all that Voldemort and been eerily quiet. The silence set Harry on edge and raveled even more of his finally taught nerves more then a storm of activity would have. At least if Voldemort were active he would now what was happening. Much more of this he admitted to himself, and he feared he might snap.

The only bright beacon in all of this was Ginny. Harry couldn't help but smile at the thought of the beautiful girl with hair that shone brighter then fire and eyes so dark and wonderful he could sink into them. When ever he was with her it felt like the wait of the world was lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe again. Under her coffee brown eyes the world was happy and carefree.

But even the thought of the bright girl weighed heavily on him for he was still unwilling to do anything to about that strange tingling feeling that came into his stomach when ever her saw her. There were times when he greatly regretted his decision to just remain friends with her, but then he thought about what was going on between him and Ron and knew that if he did start seeing Ginny and things didn't work, the consequences would be far worse. If that came to pass he wouldn't have just one member of the Weasley family angry at him but all of them.

To Harry's right a compartment door slid open interrupting his thoughts. He glanced to the side out of the corner of his eye and saw a sneering pointed face capped with white blond hair appear. He sighed heavily at the sound of the drawling voice.

"What's this?" the boy asked in a slimy, malicious voice. "The famous Harry Potter without the rest of his dream team. I suppose you miss that foul Mudblood, don't you?"

"Sod off, Malfoy." Harry tried to push past only to have Malfoy shoved him forcefully back pressing himself into Harry's face.

"I warned you Potter. Making friends with Mudbloods and Blood traitors will only get you into trouble."

Harry's eyes narrowed to tinny slits. "How is you father, Draco? Enjoying Azkaban is he?"

An evil smile slid onto Draco's face and his cold grey eyes gleamed with malice. "Think you're pretty smug, don't you? Let me tell you this Potter. You won't be safe from my father for very much longer."

"You think so?"

"I know so." He gave Harry a final push into the wall. "Have a safe Holiday Potter." Draco forcefully shouldered him as he walked by. Harry watched the pale blond boys retreating back with hate filled eyes.

"Harry." He turned at the sound of Ginny's voice and felt his bad mood vanish at the sight of her. Here was the one bright light in his depressing world.

"Hello, Gin." His face softened into a tender smile.

When she reached him she instantly slipped her hand into his. "What did he want?" She asked nodding her head in the direction Draco had gone.

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed once again. "Great ugly prat." He gave Ginny's hand a tug to direct her back down the length of the train to where the carriage was. "He was lording this shite about Ron and Hermione over my head again."

Ginny nodded causing her bright copper hair to fall over her shoulder. "So I take it Ron wouldn't talk to you?"

"You know," Harry stopped suddenly causing Ginny to collide with is back. "Your brother is really starting to get on my last nerve. And the worst thing is I can't even blame him for it."

"I know, Harry." She gave his hand a squeeze. "But you know how he is. He's stubborn, and thick and..."

"That might be, but I still miss him, Gin."

"Just give him some time. He'll come around." The pair moved on again, unaware that they were still holding hands and only released each other when they came to the car that they were sharing with Neville and Luna.

Grimmauld Place was not nearly as quiet and depressing as Harry feared it was going to be. True Ron kept to himself spending most of his time alone in the room that he and Harry had been sharing since the summer before fifth year, but the presences of the other Weasley children was enough to make anyone almost forget that Ron wasn't there.

Bill and Charlie had both come home to celebrate the holidays with the rest of their family and to everyone's surprise had both brought their girlfriends with them. Though Ron hastily greeted Fleur Delacour and made a hasty retreat, still embarrassed over his behavior fourth year, Harry was more then thrilled to see her again.

Sarah Bishop, the girl Charlie brought home with him, was very sweet and surprisingly open and comfortable with the large family. Harry liked her instantly. When she was introduced to him she didn't look for his scar like most people did or stare at him like he was a frightening creature or someone greater then human. She looked him right in the eye like a friend and greeted him warmly.

As soon as the introductions had all been made Ginny had pulled Harry aside, her eyes wide with wonder. "What is it?" Harry had asked upon seeing her face.

"Bill and Charlie must be really serious about them." She confided as she nodded to the two girls who were now chatting animatedly with Mrs. Weasley.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because," Ginny rolled her dark brown eyes. "I guess it's kind of another Weasley tradition. Bill and Charlie have never brought home any of their other girlfriend's. And we knew Bill and Fleur were getting serious. It's obvious every time Bill talks about her that he's mad for her. His eye's gloss over and he gets this sappy grin." Ginny bulged out her eyes and smiled stupidly in an exaggerated imitation of her brother.

Harry covered his laugh with a cough. "And what about Sarah? Do you think Charlie's serious about her?"

The two turned to look at Charlie who was standing near the fireplace with Bill and his father. While he was participating in the conversation, chiming in with his own opinions and observations, his eyes were fixated on the girl he had brought home. Neither were surprised to see that she was glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye just as much. It was easy to tell when she did so because a broad smile appeared on her lips.

Ginny smiled herself. "Absolutely. It's plain to see they're crazy in love."

"Yeah." Harry had to agree. He was watching the two couples intently. Ginny was of course right, it was plain to see the love between the pairs. One would have to be blind not to see it.

Harry's eyes narrowed in thought. So this is what loving couples looked like, he thought to himself. It was all strange for him. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never looked at each other like that, or purposefully touched each other like these couples were constantly doing. He hadn't noticed it before, but now that he thought about it he couldn't remember a day that he had spent with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley where he hadn't seen them touch with affection. Whether it was a kiss on the cheek, or a hand on the others arm and then there was also the looks they shared with one another. The same looks that Bill and Charlie were bestowing upon their chosen partners. Harry glanced over to where Ron was sitting with Fred and George. It was the same look he now realized Ron had been giving to Hermione for years.

Harry shook his head sadly. If that were true, why weren't Ron and Hermione as blissfully happy as the older couples in the Weasley family? He didn't think Ron loved Hermione any less then Bill and Charlie did Fleur and Sarah; so why was he so miserably unhappy while they were painfully blissful.

Deciding to steer clear of questions he didn't have the answer to he turned his focus on the twins. "What about Fred and George?"

"What about them?"

"Are their relationships any more serious then before?"

"Besides for each other?" she asked smartly, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Harry snorted with laughter. "Yeah, besides with each other."

"Those two." She rolled her eyes with exasperation. "Still as dimwitted as ever. I don't know how Angelina and Katie put up with them. If it were me I would have ditched them long ago."

"Hmm." Was all the further he responded for he had ceased listening to Ginny when he noticed how red Ron's face had grown in the past few minutes. He recognized that look well. It was the one he and Ginny had seen a week ago in the common room. Ron was going to explode any moment now if Fred and George didn't end what ever obnoxious antic they were partaking in.

Abruptly Harry left Ginny's side and began to stride across the room in brisk steps hoping that he would get there soon enough to calm Ron before he lost it. He was half way across the room when Ron shot to his feet, face as red as a tomato, fists clenched so tight at his side that his knuckles were turning white and his blue eyes were blazing with untamed fury.

"WILL YOU SHUT THE BLOODY HELL UP?" He roared shocking the entire room into silence. "DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW IT'S MY BLOODY FAULT? DO YOU REALLY THINK I DON'T WAK UP EVERY RUDDY MORNING WISHING THE PAST FEW MONTHS WERE A BLODDY NIGHTMARE? THAT I'VE FINALLY FUCKEN WOKEN UP AND THIS HAS ALL BEEN A BLOODY DREAM? IT'S FUCKING TORTURE! SO WHY DON'T YOU TWO JUST FUCKING SOD OFF AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE?" And with that Ron stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard that the plaster surrounding the frame cracked upon impact.

The room was blaringly quiet as they stared at the shut door in shock. The first one to move was Mrs. Weasley and she turned on her two sons, her eyes blazing with furry almost as strongly as Ron's had. "I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE YOUR BROTHER ALONE!" she shouted loud enough to make the chandelier shutter.

"We didn't know he'd get _that _upset." Fred defended their actions meagerly as he coward under his mother's angry glare.

"I don't care! I told you to leave him alone! Now look what you've done. We finally get him to leave his room and you two send him scurrying back!"

"We didn't mean to." George piped in now.

"You never _mean _to." Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Jus like you didn't _mean _to turn his bear into a spider either."

"Mum that was…"

"No." She cut Fred off with an angry bark. She pointed her finger at the door. "You two march upstairs right now and fix this. I don't care what you have to do, but you make it right."

"Fine." The twins murmured as they rose to their feet, heads bowed, shoulders hunched as they walked from the room in search of their younger brother.

Face still rosy and flushed with anger, Molly turned back to the room. "Fleur, Sarah. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Sarah smiled brightly at the short, podgy woman. "It's all right, Mrs. Weasley. Don't fret about it. I really don't mind. Actually," she chuckled displacing some of the awkward silence. "You remind me very much of my own mum and how she use to shout at my brothers and sisters when they were causing trouble. It really does make me feel right at home."

"Just the same." Molly softened at Sarah's carefree dismissal of the scene. "It's Christmas and I didn't want to be shouting at anyone for once."

Bill and Charlie glanced at each other then rolled their eyes. "Mum," Bill wrapped an affectionate arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry to tell you this but you will never experience a Christmas where one of us doesn't do something wrong and need you to shout at us for it." He smiled cheekily down at her. "But you know we wouldn't have it any other way."

Still slightly annoyed Molly removed Bill's arm from around her shoulder and walked briskly out of the room calling over her shoulder for Ginny to come help her in the kitchen.

Dinner was almost finished when Fred and George reemerged from up stairs. Harry noticed immediately that Ron wasn't with them.

"Where is your brother?" Molly barked, voicing Harry's silent question when they came into the kitchen.

The two red heads sank onto the bench next to each other. "He's a bit embarrassed about exploding like that it front of everyone so we told him we'd bring him some dinner later." Fred explained as he pilled large helpings of food onto his plate.

"So, did you fix things?" Molly asked in a menacing tone.

Fred and George looked at each other than at their mother all the while fidgeting awkwardly in their seats.

"Yeah, we fixed it." George mumbled. "Only…"

"Only what?" Molly raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Only…well… You're not going to like it."

"What did you do now?"

"He was in a right state." Fred said defensively, picking up for his brother. "I really didn't know this whole Hermione business got him so worked up. I mean honestly, everyone _knows_ that those two are going to get together someday."

"Don't know what he's so worked up about." George agreed.

"But he wouldn't calm down. So…we had to promise him that…"

"What?" Molly's voice dropped several octaves.

"We had to promise him we would bring him to the shop when Hermione arrives tomorrow." Fred ducked his head under the table as soon as the words were out to escape his mother's wrath, which he knew was short in coming.

"What?" Molly rose threateningly to her feet, placing both heads firmly on the table, effecting an extraordinarily fearful pose.

"Mum, you should have seen him." Harry was surprised to see that for the first time since he had met the twins they had completely dropped their buoyant attitude and were completely serious. George frowned into his plate as he remembered the look on his little brother's face when they had been talking to him a few minutes ago. "He wants to see her mum, he really does. But he also knows that she doesn't want to see him. That she almost didn't come for Christmas because of him."

"And he doesn't want to ruin Christmas for everyone else." Fred's eyes popped up from under the table. "He doesn't want to see her because he thinks it will ruin her holiday. And ours." He added almost as an afterthought.

"But its Christmas." Mrs. Weasley's eyes glistened with tears. "You three can't not be here on Christmas." Molly sank into her seat completely dejected. "It's bad enough without Percy being here," everyone around the table flinched including Fleur and Sarah, who had obviously learned about the estranged family member through their boyfriends. "I wanted to celebrate as a family all together." Inadvertently her eyes drifted to Harry and a tear streaked down her cheek. "While we still can." She brushed it away but it was too late for Harry, he had an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach from her words. The fact that Mrs. Weasley considered him apart of the family and that she worried he might not be there to celebrate next Christmas left him feeling cold inside.

"Mum." Fred reached across the table in an uncharacteristic show of affection, placing his hand on his mother's. "We'll be here until just before the Grangers arrive and come back as soon as they leave. But we promised Ron we would take him out while she was here so she wouldn't have to see him."

"No." Molly shook her head emphatically, pounding her fist on the table. "It's too dangerous. You know Ron's a target. I can't believe…"

"We promise we won't leave our shop." Fred assured her.

"We'll spend a few hours lounging about the back room playing cards, drinking Butterbeers and trying some of our new products. No one need know we're there."

"No." Molly still objected. "It's too dangerous. You're nothing but three children."

"We're of age!" The twins cried together for what felt like the thousandth time.

"I don't care if you're of age. You both are still my little boys and I will not allow the three of you out of this house on Christmas day without fully grown witch or wizard supervision."

The room fell into silence once again as the three Weasleys glared at each other. Hardly a moment passed when Mr. Weasley chimed in from his end of the table.

"I'll go with them."

Molly gasped as she turned to her husband. "Arthur!"

"Molly, I wanted every one to be together as much as you did. But you know as well as I do that if we force Ron to be here tomorrow he is going to be miserable and hide himself away somewhere. At least at the shop he won't be alone."

"But I…" Mrs. Weasley stammered in uncharacteristic disbelief. A silent tear slid down her cheek. "I wanted to fix… and…"

"I know," Mr. Weasley assured his wife. "I wanted that too. But we can't force them to reconcile if neither of them wants to."

Mrs. Weasley was silent for several minutes as she fought an eternal battle with herself over her natural instinct to clutch her children close and try to fix their problems for them and the realization that her children were growing up and needed to fix them on their own.

"Fine." Molly turned from the table and started clearing it off. "But you aren't to leave until the moment the doorbell rings announcing the Grangers' arrival and I want you home again the minute they're gone."

"Of course dear." Mr. Weasley looked down at his watch. "Well would you look at the time. Fred. George. You better finish eating. Harry son, would you mind bringing Ron a plate to eat?"

Harry sat staring at Mr. Weasley a moment in surprise. He knew that Mrs. Weasley considered him as a son, but Mr. Weasley was harder to read in his affection. He wasn't sure if his reference to Harry as son was deliberate or a slip of the tongue, but he liked it just the same.

When Harry still hadn't moved Ginny nudged him with her shoulder and he snapped back to attention taking the plate that Mrs. Weasley had prepared for her youngest son and was now holding out to him.

Rising from the table Harry looked one last time at Ginny who smiled at him assuring, buoying his confidence. He walked reluctantly from the room and up the stairs to the bedroom that he and Ron shared. He knocked on the door and waited for an answer.


	12. The Talk

Chapter 12: The Talk

When no answer came to his knocking Harry pushed the door to his and Ron's bedroom open and found the red head sitting on his bed a book propped open between his knees. At the sound of the door opening he looked up and his blue eyes narrowed when he caught sight of his green eyed friend. "What do you want?" He asked with a cold voice.

Harry stilled in the doorframe, uncertainty and awkwardness wearing away at his nerves. The two boys stared at each other feeling suffocated by the heavy silence between them. They hadn't spoken to each other in over a week and neither knew what to say now that they were facing each other once again.

Tentatively, Harry lifted the plate he held higher for Ron to see. "Thought you might be hungry."

Ron's eyes narrowed on the offered plate before turning back to his book. "I'm not hungry. Thank you."

"Ronald Weasley, don't lie to me." Ron turned with a start as Harry stepped into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. For a moment Harry had sounded frighteningly similar to his mother. "I know you better then anyone." Ron chose to ignore his friend and turned back to his book. "Remember that? You didn't eat breakfast this morning. You barley had two bites of your lunch and you haven't had anything to eat for dinner."

"I'm not hungry." Ron repeated without looking up from his page.

"Yes you are." Harry argued stubbornly.

And as if to confirm Harry's suspicion Ron's stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, blaringly out of place in the intense silence or the room. Harry snorted as he tried to retain the uncomfortable laughter building inside him. For a reason unknown he found the familiar sound both comforting and funny. He almost had his mirth under control but then he caught sight of the laughter on his best mate's face…and lost it. He let go and laughed, filling the room with the soft, slightly uncomfortable sound.

As soon as Harry started laughing Ron couldn't withhold his own and a chuckle broke free of his lips. The two boys glanced at each other and soon Ron's loud gawfas were filling the room along side Harry's hearty laughter. Their amusement built off each other until they couldn't control it anymore and were laughing so hard it was impossible to stop. Their eyes watered profusely and their sides began to ache.

Several minutes later they were still laughing when Ginny stuck her head into the room to see what had happened. The two boys found it even more hilarious when Ginny stormed away, annoyed that they wouldn't tell her what had caused their laughter, for truly the absurdity of what had gotten them laughing was so unbelievable it made it all the more amusing.

Finally when their sides ached too much to be endured, Harry sank down at the foot of Ron's bed and handed him the plate which he was miraculously still holding onto.

"Here. Eat this before your stomach protests again."

For a moment Harry thought Ron would refuse but breathed a sigh of relief when he accepted the plate eagerly and tore into the chicken leg that was still hot thanks to a warming charm Mrs. Weasley had cast on it. "Fanks." He said through a greasy mouth full.

Harry smiled tentatively back. "Not a problem."

Ron tore another bite from the chicken leg. "Dis dones mean I'm nod till mah ah do."

"What?"

Ron rolled his eyes as he quickly chewed the morsel of meat in his mouth and swallowed. "I said, this doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"Oh." Harry looked away. "I know that." The two boys fell into silence as Ron devoured the contents of the plate. It wasn't until he swallowed the last of the mashed potatoes and sighed with satisfaction that Harry ventured to talk again.

"I really am sorry about all this you know."

Ron sighed heavily. "Yeah I know. I just… Why didn't you tell me about the mirror? And how could you not tell me she was coming home for Christmas?" Ron bound to his feet again and began to pace angrily the length of his bed. "All these months you've been saying you wanted Hermione and me to make up, but then you go and help her avoid me."

"I never said I wasn't going to tell you." Harry rose to his feet in indignation. "You heard our conversation. You _know _I was trying to get her to see you. God," Harry spun around and kicked the base board of the bed, sending a jarring pain up his calf. "I hate this. I really hate this."

"I don't know what you're so worked up about. You were the one who was lying."

"For Merlin's sake." Harry spun back around. He couldn't help but glare at his tall friend. "What was I suppose to do, Ron? You two haven't exactly made this easy for me. No matter what I do I loose out. You and Hermione are both trying to make me choose. But how am I supposed to do that?"

"I never…"

"Didn't you?" Harry cut him off. "Yes, I've been talking to, Hermione. Did you really expect me to just stop?"

"I…"

"And if you did, that meant you expected me to choose between my two best friends. _How_ am I supposed to do that? Please. Tell me. How do I come out of this all right? I either talk to her and I loose you, or I don't talk to her and I loose her. What am I suppose to do?"

Ron's mouth gapped open a minute before he set his chin stubbornly and said. "That's not the issue." Ron pointed one of his long fingers at his friend. "You lied to me."

Harry sank dejectedly onto the bed. "See. I can't win. No matter what I do, I loose out." Harry looked at his friend, his aggravation from the past few months manifesting itself in the form of indignant tears. "What do you want me to do, Ron? Do you really want me to stop talking to her? Am I supposed to regain your friendship by ending mine with hers?"

"No." Ron shouted, his anger rising with each of Harry's arguments.

"Then what? Do you want to hit me?" Harry rose to his feet, arms spread wide in a vulnerable pose. "Go ahead. Hit me, if it will make you feel better."

"Cut it out, Harry." Ron turned angrily away.

"I'm serious." Harry planted himself in front of Ron again. "Hit me. I know it will make you feel better. You've been wanting to hit something for months. Now's your chance. Just take all your hurt and aggravation and hit me."

"Harry! Stop it!" the red head shouted. "I don't want to hit you." he pushed Harry out of the way and strode toward the one grime covered window in the room. He leaned against the wide frame, his arms crossed protectively in front of his chest as he stared through the hazy glass at the house next door. "I was angry. I still am." He took a shuttering breath. "I was so furious at her." He blinked several times trying to clear his vision. "I knew she was communicating with you and Ginny. But I never saw any letters so I was able to convince myself that it wasn't true. It was easier for me to believe that my letters weren't the only ones she was ignoring." His voice sounded unusually hoarse even to his own ears. "When I saw you talking to her it just all kind of hit me at once." He swallowed audibly, trying to force down the lump in his throat. "I know I should be mad at her. I should be furious. I… I should hate her." He shook his head. "But I can't." He turned to face Harry. "And that made me all the more angry. So I turned my anger on you." Ron hung his head as he picked at the chipped paint surrounding the windows. "So I stopped talking to you. I was so worried."

"Of what?" Ron ducked his head so that Harry couldn't see his face. "Ron? Of what?"

Ron sighed with resignation. "I was scared of what I might say."

Harry blinked with surprise. "I don't understand. You've never been afraid of what you might say before."

"I've never said something incredibly stupid that lost me one of my best friends before."

Harry stared at Ron with astonishment. He had had no idea. It suddenly hit him how much his best friend had changed since August. Gone was the hot headed boy who spoke with out stopping to regard the consequences of his words. In his place Harry found a mature, level headed young man who shouldered responsibility well and clearly thought out the consequences of his actions. He understood now why Ron had refused to talk to him. He had been worried that Harry would react to an insult the same way Hermione had.

Harry forced a jovial smile on his face. "You won't get rid of me that easily." Ron looked at Harry over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with perplexity. Harry's eyes twinkled slightly at the familiar scowl. "I like your family too much to let you do that." He explained. "Besides I'm use to all the daft things that come out of your mouth."

"Thanks Harry." Ron said unappreciatively.

"Any time." Harry chuckled and saw that despite himself, Ron's lips twitched as well. "So ah…" Harry rubbed his hands nervously together. "Do you feel better after you gave Fred and George what for?"

Ron flashed Harry the first lopsided grin he had seen in weeks. "I made a prat out of myself, didn't I?"

"Yeah. But it was worth it." Harry laughed. "You should have seen the look on Fred's face when you stormed from the room." Harry mimicked the look, exaggerating the bulging eyes and gapping mouth for full affect.

Ron laughed at Harry's reflection in the window. "You know, Mum says if you make a face like that it'll stick."

"Yes, well even of it does I'll still look a right sight better then you."

The red head tried to glare at his friend with an annoyed, angry stare, but soon lost the will and laughed right along with him, feeling happy and content for the first time in…well, he wasn't even sure how long.

"Ron?" Harry asked tentatively when the laughter ceased.

"Yeah?"

"Are we ok?"

After a minute, in which Harry inadvertently held his breath worried of what the answer might be, Ron turned from the window and nodded once. "Yeah, I guess we are." He walked towards the bed; arms still crossed and sat down.

"I think I'll come with you to Fred and George's shop tomorrow." Harry said after they had sat quietly like that for a few minutes.

"No." Ron shook his head thoughtfully. "That doesn't make any sense, You stay here."

"No. I want to come." He insisted.

"Harry," Ron sighed "I'm leaving tomorrow because Hermione is coming here to see you. If you come it defeats the purpose of me leaving and I might as well not even go. Does that make sense?"

"No." Harry shook his untidy head. "Does that mean you're staying?"

"No." Ron chuckled at Harry's ploy. "And you're not coming."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but didn't. Ron was right of course. Hermione was coming just to see him. "It's not going to be the same tomorrow without you." He said awkwardly, blushing at the sentimentality of his words.

"Yeah?"

"I mean," he continued, "this will be the first Christmas that we haven't spent together."

"Careful, Harry." Ron teased. "Talk like that and people might think you're turning puff."

Harry rolled his eyes at the smirk he saw on his friends face. "Seriously though, is there anything I can say to convince you to stay tomorrow?"

Ron shook his head sadly, the laughter dying from his blue eyes. "I don't think so."

"You're mum's not very happy." "Harry tried.

."That's an understatement." Ron snorted. "I heard her shouting all the way up here. She'll get over it."

"She's worried you know. I don't think she expects me to make it until next Christmas."

Ron's head snapped around, his eyes wide. "Why do you say that?"

"Just something she said earlier about wanting to have Christmas with the whole family while she still can."

"So you're family then, are you?"

Harry smirked at the way Ron tried to ease the tension by making light of his mothers fears. "Guess so."

"Damn. And I was hoping to be rid of you by the end of the year."

"It's good to know I mean so much to you, mate."

Harry jabbed Ron playfully in the arm only to receive a face full of pillow for his trouble.

The boys' laughter quieted down into comfortable silence. Ron stared thoughtfully at the wall while Harry picked at a ball of lint clinging to his jumper. "Is there something you would like for me to say to her or maybe give to her tomorrow?"

"No." Ron flipped his legs up onto the bed and retrieved his book from where he had set it. "There's really no point in that now is there?"

Harry watched his friend, eyes filled with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know really." Ron sighed, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "All I know is Hermione doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't even want to see me. She won't give me a chance to explain. So…"

"So that's it?" Harry asked, knowing full well where this confession was going. "You're just going to give up on her?"

Ron looked Harry straight in the eye. "What else can I do? She won't talk to me."

"I don't know." Harry rose to his feet and started pacing in frustration. "But you have to do something. I want my best friends back and talking to each other. It's just not the same without you two. Gods," Harry looked to the ceiling, rolling his eyes with horrific disbelief. "I never thought I would actually be saying this, but I even miss you two rowing all the time."

Ron chuckled at the near absurdity of Harry's words. "You think that's sad? I would gladly row with her every day for the rest of my life if it meant she would talk to me again."

Harry sank down next to Ron once more. "Why don't you tell her that?"

"I've tried. She won't read my letters."

"So tell her tomorrow when she can't ignore you or run away." He suggested.

Ron shook his head adamantly. "No. That would just ruin her Christmas. I don't need to give her anymore fodder for her anger."

Harry started. "Fodder?"

Ron shrugged, the tips of his ears turning pink. "It means fuel, for like a fire."

"I know what it means." Harry almost laughed. "I just didn't know that you knew."

"Yes, well…" The blush spread from his ears to his cheeks, inflaming them bright red. "I've been reading a bit more this year."

"I noticed." Harry started at his best friend intently when comprehension suddenly hit. "It makes you feel closer to her doesn't it?"

Ron's eyes scrunched in thought. "You know I never even thought about it like that. But I guess in the begging it did."

"And now?"

Ron shrugged. "Hermione was right. Books aren't as boring as I thought they were."

"All right." Harry pulled his wand and pointed it playfully at Ron. "Who are you? And what have you done with my best friend?"

"Funny, Harry."

Harry repocketed his wand. "Are you sure you can't give it one more go with Hermione?" Harry persisted. "That's all I'm asking for."

Ron shook his head sadly. "No. What good would it do anyway?"

"Ron, it could make all the difference in the world. I mean look at all that we've done since we started at Hogwarts. Think of all that could have happened if we hadn't at least tried. Quirelle might have found a way to steal the stone, your sister would be lying dead in the chamber, we never would have even had the chance to know Sirius and I probably would have died in that graveyard.

"And what about what happened at the Ministry. If we hadn't tried none of that would have happened. Sirius would still be alive, Hermione would never have gotten hurt, and I wouldn't have these." he pulled up his sleeve to reveal shinny pink marks like stings from a whip.

"But we did go, Ron. And we could have just given up when the Death Eaters had us surrounded. But we didn't we fought and the six of us survived. That wouldn't have happened if we hadn't at least tried."

"Harry, that's different." Ron protested tossing his book aside once more. "All those things you mentioned were life and death situations."

"So…confronting Hermione should be loads easier, right? Listen Ron, would you please just think about it. I can't make you do what you don't want to do, but I really think you should try talking to her once more."

"I don't know what good it will do, but I'll think about it." Ron conceded. "But right now I really just want to go to sleep."

"Fine." Harry nodded his agreement before walking across the room and began pulling of his clothes to replace with his pajamas.

Both boys slipped under their thick covers content in the silence that was no longer heavy and awkward. Harry had just put out his beside candle and pulled his blankets up to his chin when he heard Ron's voice come through the darkness. "I really miss her you know."

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "I know."

The room fell silent once more being interrupted only by their soft breathing. Harry knew that Ron was still awake by lack of his snores and was fully aware that soon enough would be asking more questions. True enough, Ron turned over onto his back with a deep sigh and said.

"Tell me about Bjorn."

"Ron…"

"Did she really go to the Halloween Ball with him?"

Harry sighed resignedly. "Yes she did."

Silence was fallowed by, "What is he like? Is she happy with him?"

"Ron, I really don't know." Harry turned over so that he could look at his friend. "She doesn't talk to me about him. She usually saves that topic for Ginny. All I know is what Ginny's told me."

"And what has Ginny said?"

Harry pushed himself up on his elbow to better look at the other boy. "Why are you tormenting yourself like this?"

Ron shrugged meekly. "I don't know. I just need to know what he's like?"

Not really understanding, Harry collapsed back on his pillow. "From what I understand, he dotes on her. Pulls her chair out for her," he elaborated, "fills her plate at diner, stays up with her while she works on her homework. He walks her to every class and carries her books for her. I guess he's a really nice guy."

Ron scooted up in his bed so that he could lean his back against the headboard, pull his knees up to his chest, and wrap his arms around them. "He waits on her hand and foot?"

"That's the way it sounds."

Ron's brows scrunched in thoughtful confusion. "I would have thought that would have driven her mad."

"What?"

Ron turned his head to look at Harry. "Well, Hermione is really independent, right?"

"Right."

"So I would have thought waiting on her like that would bother her. I thought it would make her feel like she wasn't capable of doing things on her own."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is what Ginny says and Ginny said that that's how he treats her."

Ron closed his eyes and rested his head on his drawn up knees. "Strange." He muttered to himself.

Harry watched Ron sit that way for several minutes more before he closed his own eyes and let the rhythm of sleep take over his body.


	13. Christmas

Chapter 13: Christmas

The Granger's car moved slowly through the wet streets of London. The sky was over cast with angry black clouds that showered the ground with a heavy blanket of snow. Hermione stared up at the clouds with a sense of foreboding. Their gray and black tones seemed to capture the essences of the turmoil raging inside her. While she was undeniably excited to see Harry, Ginny and the rest of the Weasley's again, she dreaded the confrontation she knew she would inevitably have with Ron. In he mind the only question was how long would they be able to hold off without screaming at each other? One hour? Two? She feared that wouldn't even be able to last that long.

The sky darkened further outside her window as the sun began to set, barley visible on the horizon. Mr. Granger downshifted as they turned into a quiet street surrounded by many unkempt houses. Hermione's heart picked up a few beats as she realized that they were mere houses away from Grimmauld Place. She turned away from the window when the familiar building came into view in the distance. She took several deep breaths trying fruitlessly to still her racing heart.

The car rolled to a stop and the engine killed. Hermione turned to stare transfixed at the large building standing tall and proud between houses eleven and thirteen. Vaguely hearing the other car doors open she reached for her own handle and the door fell open nearly pitching her on the slushy sidewalk in surprise.

"Are you all right, dear?" Her mother asked, rushing forward to offer her a hand.

Hermione let her mother pull her to her feet before she answered. "I'm fine." She brushed absently at her skirt, smoothing wrinkles and snow from the soft fabric. "I must be more tired then I thought." Her mother stared at her skeptically but was forced to accept her explanation when she turned to go help her father unload the bags of presents from the boot. She handed a bag to her mother before taking two herself.

Mr. Granger closed the lid and they turned and stepped onto the sidewalk. Hermione briskly walked down the path using all her determination and confidence to keep her head held high. She was nearly at the front step when she heard her father call in a slightly panicked voice.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?" she turned with a start to see her father and mother looking bewilderedly about.

"Where did you go, Moppet?"

"I'm right here." She waved one of her hands still cluthching the bright, multi color bag.

Mr. Granger turned towards the sound of her voice and squinted. "Where? I don't see you."

"Oh." She sighed with comprehension. "Just a moment." She set her bags on the pathway that was charmed to magically repel snow. She strode briskly back down the path digging into the depths of her pocket. She stepped onto the main snow covered side walk directly in front of her parents, causing them to jump back in surprise.

Mrs. Granger clutched at her chest. "Where did you come from?"

"Here." Hermione held out a slip of paper to her parents. "Read this quickly and memorize it."

Giving their daughter a peculiar look, both Mr. and Mrs. Granger read the slip several times until they were certain they could remember it.

"Have it?"

When both of her parents nodded she took back the slip and set it to fire with her wand. She let the ashes fall to the snow with a satisfying sizzle. "Follow me." She turned on her heal and began walking the path to the entrance once again. This time her parents followed behind her, eyes bulging as they watched a house appear where there hadn't been one before, shouldering its way in between eleven and thirteen.

Hermione smirked when they joined them on the doorstep. "I told you magic was fascinating." She reached out a dainty finger, and set off the doorbell. Almost instantly the door was flung open to reveal a disheveled haired boy, with sparkling green eyes hidden behind round framed glasses. "Harry!" She squealed flinging her arms around his neck with excitement.

Harry stumbled back under her weight laughing tenderly as he hugged her back. "What a greeting." He joked as he set her back on her feet and turned to extend his hand to Mr. and Mrs. Granger who were standing just inside the door.

"Mr. Granger. Mrs. Granger." He shook both of their hands in turn. "Welcome to Grimmauld Place. May I take you coats?" He asked as he ushered them farther in so that he could close the door.

"Harry?" Hermione set her bags on the floor so that she could slide her arms out of her coat. She looked curiously around the hall. "Where's Ginny?"

Harry deposited the Grangers' winter gear on a coat tree, "Saying goodbye to Ron."

"What?" Her head snapped around, her hands stilled in the process of removing her scarf.

Harry turned to face his friend, rubbing his hands vigorously together, warming them from the snow that had clung to the coats and melted on his bare skin. "Ron, Fred, George and Mr. Weasley won't be joining us for dinner."

"Why?"

Harry looked pointedly at Hermione. "Let's just say that Ron got the impression that one of the guests today didn't want to see him." Hermione blushed slightly and turned away from the accusing look in Harry's emerald eyes. She was spared the torment of commenting by the sound of feet rapidly drawing near, followed by a cry of delight.

"Hermione!" Ginny called as she rushed forward and the two girls hugged exuberantly. "It's so good to see you." she sighed when she let the older girl go.

"And you." Hermione looked over her with a skeptical eye. "You've grown taller since I left."

Ginny straightened to her full height and looked down at Hermione. "That, or you've shrunk."

Hermione chuckled as she wrapped her arm through the red heads and stepped towards the door leading to the sitting room. "Clever, Ginny." She nodded at the door. "Is everyone in there?"

The red head nodded.

Hermione was just reaching out to open the door to the sitting room when she heard Harry say cheekily behind her.

"So Mr. Granger…did you have any trouble finding the place?"

Hermione shook her head as she stifled a chuckle glancing at Ginny to see her role her eyes. "Thinks he's so clever all of a sudden."

The doors to the kitchen burst suddenly open and Molly Weasley hurried out, guiding a tray of drinks in front of her with her wand. "Hermione, my dear. How delightful to see you again." She offered the seventeen year old her hand and shook it briskly before she turned to greet Mr. and Mrs. Granger, still balancing the tray before her.

Hermione turned towards the door feeling a heavy weight settle on her chest. Mrs. Weasley wasn't her same cheerful, mothering self. She couldn't help but feel disappointed that she hadn't been met with the normal smothering hug that usually greeted her. And, unless she was mistaken, which hardly ever was, she thought she had a very good idea as to why. Hermione tilted her head up. That was fine. If Mrs. Weasley was going to be cold and distant towards her, she could be cold and distant back.

Hermione pushed open the double doors and was greeted with welcomes from the people already gathered around the room. Bill and Charlie were sitting on the long sofa, Bill with his arm draped over Fleur Delacour's shoulders and Charlie with his arm wrapped around the waist of a girl she didn't recognize.

"Hermione." Tonks rushed across the room to greet her but caught her foot under the leg of a side table and toppled over, bringing the table and the objects on it, crashing to the ground with her.

Hermione rushed forward to help the Auror up. "Are you all right?" She asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"Course I am." Tonks dismissed her anxiety as she patted at the light layer of dust that had flown up and clung to her close when she landed on the ancient rug. "How've you been Hermione? Haven't seen you in a while."

"That's because I've been in Bulgaria."

Tonks's eyes widened in surprise. "You have?" Hermione nodded. "And Dumbledore let you go?"

"Dumbledore was the one who suggested it."

Tonk's nose twitched in thought. "Never would have expected that from old Dumbledore." She shrugged. "But he usually knows what's he's doing. You're enjoying yourself though?"

Hermione beamed. "Oh yes. I'm having a wonderful time. Everything is so exciting and new. I'm making all sorts of new friends."

"Must be tough being away from Ron and Harry though. I mean, they don't call you three the Golden Trio for nothing do they?"

"No." Hermione's bright eyes dimmed slightly. "I guess they don't. If you'll excuse me?"

Hermione made a hasty retreat to the corner where Harry and Ginny were sitting, heads bowed close in conversation, uncaring that Tonks was watching her with a perplexed look on her face. "What are you talking about?" she asked as she plopped down on a chair next to them.

The pair broke apart and Ginny brushed her coppery hair over her shoulder. "Ron." She said bluntly. "I haven't really had the _opportunity _to talk to him for over a week and Harry was telling me about what they were discussing last night…but _I'm sorry. _You don't like to talk about my brother. So let's discus something else."

Hermione stepped back at the blatant hostility she heard in her friends voice. "Are you angry with me, Ginny?"

"Should I be angry with you?" She asked, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Ginny, don't." Harry reached out and put a calming hand on the red heads arm. "It's Christmas."

She sighed. "Yes it is. I love Christmas. Time for family, friends and _forgiveness_. Don't you think so, Hermione?"

"Ginny!" Harry said harshly. "You promised."

Ginny slumped back in her chair, her eyes narrowed. "I don't know what Ron was thinking making me promise that." She mumbled under her breath so that Hermione only caught a few of her words.

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing." Ginny sighed heavily. "I didn't say anything. I promised _Ron _I wouldn't."

Harry opened his mouth to reprimand the young girl but was cut off by her name being called from the other end of the room.

"Ginny!" Molly called from where she was bending over, offering the remaining drink to Mad Eye who had arrived only moments ago and who was now sitting near the fire, wood leg stuck out before him, dangerously close to the blue blaze. "Would you mind coming to the kitchen and helping me finish dinner?"

"Coming, mum." Ginny rose to her feet without looking at Hermione and exited the room, leading her mother towards the kitchens bellow.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked when Ginny was far enough away that she wouldn't be over heard. "What has gotten into her?"

Harry crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, perfecting a comfortable, relaxed pose. "Last night was the first time Ron has talked to either of us since he found out about the mirror."

Hermione felt heat work its way up her neck to her face, tinting her skin pink as it went. "I'm sorry. Harry." The weight that had settled on her chest when she first entered the house was steadily growing heavier and more difficult to bear. "I never…"

"Ron left today because he knew you didn't want to see him. And most of the people here now that. Keep that in mind when you're wondering why people are treating you the way they are."

Hermione looked down at the hands clasped in her lap. "You're not angry with me too? Are you Harry?"

"Yes." Hermione's shoulders hunched. "But it's Christmas. So I'm going to set it aside and I'm not going to let it or anything else bother me. I'm just going to spend the evening enjoying my best friend's company."

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione smiled gratefully. "Would you like your present now?"

Without waiting for an answer she hurried over to where the two bags she had carried in were waiting and went searching through it for the package that contained Harry's gift. She scooped it up and hid it behind her back as she hurried back to Harry who was waiting with a long, slim package sitting in his lap.

Hermione retook he seat and the pair exchanged their gifts. Harry lifted his, pumping his arms a few time as if to weigh it. "Humm." He said sarcastically. "This couldn't possibly be a book, could it?"

Hermione pursed her lips playfully. "Would you at least open it and see what kind of book it is before you start making smart remarks?"

Harry smirked as he tore at the red and green paper. The smirk died when he looked down at the title. _The Dark Arts Book of How To's and Why Not's._

"Hermione." He looked up at her with bewilderment. "What is this?"

"That's a copy of the book we use in my Dark Arts Class. And before you say anything," she cut him off when she watched him mouth open in protest, "would you at least just please read it. I know that you don't particularly like the fact that Durmstrang teaches the Dark Arts, but it really is an informative book and I think you could learn a lot from it." She reached out and rested her hand on Harry's arm. "I think it's all right to pursue any means we have of gaining an upper hand over Voldemort. Don't you?"

Hermione could tell he was deep in thought by the narrowing of his eyes and the scrunching of his brow. "I don't know, Hermione."

"I just think we need to better understand where he is coming from so that we can better understand the way his mind works. It might be the only chance we'll have at defeating him and…"

"Keeping me alive." Harry finished for her. Hermione's face flushed even darker. He of course was correct. "Thank you, Hermione." He leaned forward and wrapped an appreciative hug around her. "It's good to know that you care so much for me."

Hermione smiled timidly. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you, Harry."

"You as well. It's bad enough with you all the way in Bulgaria. I can't imagine what it would be like if you were gone for real. I'd have to do all my homework by myself."

"Really Harry," Hermione nudged him playfully trying hard to keep her face stern but failing miserably. "But honestly, Harry, as long as we have you around I'm not too worried."

"Please stop." Harry rolled his bright green eyes. "You're going to make me blush." He set his new book aside and handed Hermione his gift for her. Her eyes lit up as she accepted the light package. She tore at the wrapping, letting the bright paper fall to the ground. She opened the lid of the slender box and pulled out a long, fluffy quill the nauseating color of acid green.

She looked from the quill to Harry a few times with a disbelieving frown on her face. "Harry?" She said questioningly, not fully understanding the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "What?"

"It's a Quick Quote Quill.H" Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I thought you could use it while revising. That way you don't have to look up from your reading to jot down notes. It will do it for you."

"Harry." Hermione's hands found their way to her hips, laughter causing her voice to shake. "You bought this quill knowing full well it would remind me of that horrible Skeeter woman."

Harry dropped his mouth and threw his hand to his chest in a mock look of indignation. "Hermione. I can't believe you would suggest such a thing. I would _never_ dream of inflicting mental torment on my friend like that."

"Yes." Hermione snorted. "I can't imagine you ever trying to do that." Despite the scowl she forced on her face she leaned forward and kissed him appreciatively on the cheek. "Thank you, Harry. It's wonderful."

"Not exchanging gifts without me." Hermione pulled away to look at Ginny who was standing several steps away with a rectangular package in her hands. She sank down onto the seat that she had been sitting in earlier. "Happy Christmas." She held out the package to Hermione who took it eagerly.

She tore away the wrapping to reveal a book bound in leather with a rose pattern imbedded on the front, surrounding the words 'Photos'. She flipped through the pages seeing many faces she recognized smiling up at her.

"Oh Ginny, it's beautiful." She closed the book before clutching it lovingly to her chest. "I love it. Thank you."

Ginny smiled knowingly. "I knew you would. So, where's my present, or does only this git get one."

"Just a moment." Hermione set the book tenderly aside beside the acid green quill. "It's just over here." She scampered across the room to the same bag that she had pulled Harry's gift from. She scurried back and handed it to Ginny just as Mrs. Weasley came back into the room announcing dinner.

Ginny set her gift aside to open later and the three friends followed the adults from the room. They gathered around the large table in the dinning room, Harry sitting on one end because of Mrs. Weasley's insistence, it was his house after all she argued. Hermione and Ginny sat on either side of him, Ginny to his right, Hermione to his left. Beside Hermione sat Bill, then Fleur, Charlie, Sarah and Tonks. Molly sat at the other end of the table across from Harry and beside her sat Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Mad Eye, and Remus.

The food was divine. Despite the absence of her husband and three sons, Mrs. Weasley had put her heart into preparing Christmas dinner, and it showed. Even without Ron there to wolf down his three helpings of turkey and mashed potatoes, the food still seemed to disappear.

Around her was a bevy of conversation and despite herself Hermione couldn't seem to pay attention long enough to chime in with her own thoughts. Harry and Ginny continuously tried including her in the conversation but when they did she would chat back for several minutes with insight and spunk. But then her eyes would wonder around the group and she would fall silent once more.

Ginny's lips pursed and her eyes narrowed into glares when Hermione once again fell silent and nudged the less then half eaten food around her plate. Ginny used her napkin to wipe her lips before throwing it angrily down on the table. She rose to her feet, marched around the table, pulled Hermione to her feet and pulled her unceremoniously from the room.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried with indignation when the young red head continued to tow her down the hall and up the stairs to the room that they had shared for the past two summers. "Ginny what is wrong with you?"

The angered red head ignored her until they had cleared the doorway and closed the large panel behind her. Finally releasing Hermione's wrist she turned to face the curly haired girl. "Make a decision, Hermione. Now."

"What?" Her brown eyes widened with confusion. "Ginny, what are you talking about?"

Ginny crossed her arms angrily in front of her chest and her eyes narrowed further, perfecting the infamous Molly Weasley scowl. "You can't have it both ways. It's not fare to us but most importantly it's not fare to Ron. Have you forgotten that he's not here today because you didn't want to see him?"

"I haven't forgotten." Hermione bristled with indignation.

"Really?" Ginny snapped back. "Because the way your mopping around down there is enough to make one think you _might _actually miss him."

"That's ridiculous." Hermione spun around on her heel so that she wasn't facing her friend. "I do _not _miss Ron. He…"

"I know!" Ginny shouted with frustration. "He called you a Mudblood! How long are you going to punish him for it? He's asked you time and time again to forgive him! Why won't you?"

Hermione stood stubbornly quiet and still. She refused to be baited by anyone, including Ginny Weasley. Behind her she heard the other girl sigh heavily with sadness and resignation.

"When we were younger," she began in a soft tender voice, "Ron really had it the worst out of all of us. He always felt like one of our brothers always had one up on him. It's hard not to feel that way when you're the sixth son. Everything's already been done by the time you get around to doing it. He also always felt ignored by mum and dad and by the other boys, though he'll never admit that. And truthfully, he was right. Mum and dad always had so much to do with so many of us that they expected the others to watch out for Ron and me, and the older boys didn't want to be bothered with him because he was the younger brother. I didn't have it so bad because I was the only girl and as you know they all feel overly protective of me." Ginny sank heavily onto the foot of the bed. "So Ron and I sort of stuck together. Which is the reason why I was so sad when he left for Hogwarts without me. But I was also glad because even then I knew that perhaps he would finally find something that was his. Find someone who cared about him and paid attention to him. Then he met you and Harry and he would write letters home to me about the two of you and I was so jealous. Because he had found two people so completely devoted and loyal to him. I thought he was the luckiest bloke in the world."

Ginny's chin stiffened and a hard glint steeled into her eyes. "Now I think he would be better off if he had never met you." Hermione felt a jolt of pain in her heart so intense it felt like she had been stabbed. "You have caused him nothing but heartache since August." Ginny bound to her feet and began to pace the room, a habit that most of the Weasley's had when they were angry, or anxious or worried. "For months he's been mopping around, ignoring Harry and me and everyone else for that matter. He's hardly talks anymore, never jokes. We almost never see him smile. He's never been more studious but the cost has been him. He's not my brother anymore. Merlin." Ginny slapped her thigh as she turned to face Hermione, disbelief marring her face. "He could have just about any girl in the entire school and he doesn't even notice them. He's completely unaware that people like Lavender Brown are practically throwing themselves at his feet."

Ginny spun away from Hermione and walked briskly towards the door. She turned the handle and pulled it open but stopped just inside the portal. "Make a decision Hermione. Forgive him or let him go. Because I can't bear to see him tormented like this anymore. And I would be lying if I said I was overly fond of you right now either."

The door closed with a loud thud and Hermione sank onto the foot of her bed her heart and mind battling for control of her emotions. Her mind screamed the litany 'He called you a Mudblood, don't give in.' over and over again while her heart ached for the tormenting picture Ginny had painted for her. The strain of the two conflicting emotions built inside her until her stomach lurched painfully towards her knees. Feeling sick to her stomach she made her way back to the dinning room where the other guests were just finishing up pudding. From the corner of her eye she saw that Ginny adamantly refused to look at her.

"Mum. Dad. I don't feel very well."

Mrs. Grange set down her fork and stood up. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"My stomach." Hermione placed a hand on her abdomen indicating where the pain was. "I think I just need to go home and climb into bed."

"Of course, Moppet." Mr. Granger wiped his mouth clean before standing up and joining his wife at his daughter's side. "Let's go collect our things."

Mrs. Weasley and Harry both rose as well and helped the Grangers gather there belongings and carry them to the car outside. Once the last package was packed in the boot Harry walked Hermione to her car door and gave her a long, warm hug. "Fell better."

"I'll try."

Harry opened the car door for her. "When do you go back?"

Hermione sighed. "Three days. We have a shorter holiday now but the school year ends earlier then at Hogwarts."

"Are you coming home in the spring?"

Hermione shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. I won't know until it's much closer."

Harry took her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "I hope you will."

"Me too."

Hermione and Harry shared one more hug before she slipped into the back seat and closed the door. Harry waved as the car moved away and turned at the sound of Mrs. Weasley's unhappy sigh.

"Such a shame." She murmured. "I was so certain." She caught sight of Harry watching her and smiled warmly at him. "Come now, Harry." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards Grimmauld Place. "Let's get you inside before you catch your death of cold."

Fifteen minutes into the trip Hermione had fallen asleep with her head leaning against the cold glass of the window. In the front seat her parents shared looks back and forth between each other. They had known for some time that something was not right with their daughter, and that notion had been confirmed tonight when they realized that one of her best friends had not even been present. They had been unable to glean what exactly had happened, but they had been able to gather the fact that their daughter was apparently no longer on speaking terms with Ronald Weasley. Mr. Granger sighed heavily as he looked away from his wife and concentrated on the road once again. He hated not knowing what was wrong with his daughter but also knew that she would tell him when she thought the time was right.

Hermione slept the entire two hour trip home. Her heart and mind were still in turmoil when her mother reached back to gently shake her awake as they pulled to a stop in front of their home.

They quickly emptied the car, not wanting to be outside in the biting cold any longer then was necessary. The three Grangers rushed up the walk to their front door, Mrs. Granger and Hermione stomping their feet to keep them warm as Mr. Granger struggled to slip the key into the lock. When the door clicked open the three ran inside and dropped their packages in the entryway. Mr. Granger was about to close the door when a large Eagle Owl flew through the gap and landed on the hall table. Attached to its leg was an edition to the _Evening Prophet_. Heart sinking Hermione stepped forward, digging through her clothes for a loose knutt. Finding one she slipped it into the pouch attached to the bird's leg before she untied the Prophet. Once free of its burden the owl flew out the door that Mr. Granger was still holding open.

Hermione didn't even notice the sound of the door closing. She stared transfixed at the headline, her heart beating painfully in her chest.

**Death Eaters Attack!**

**Owners Die in Joke Shop Explosion!**


	14. Guilt and Blame

Chapter 14: Guilt and Blame

Hermione hadn't left her room in two days. Her once glossy curls were mated and tangled, and her skin appeared unusually shallow and pale. She hadn't eaten since Christmas diner two nights ago and her stomach ached from hunger pains, but she couldn't bring herself to eat. The mere thought of food nauseated her.

She rolled over on her mattress, unable to sleep and torment herself with the sight of the Prophet that sat propped up on her bedside table. Fred and George's faces smiled at her from the front page, their picture forms completely unaware of the tortures death they had suffered.

Hermione picked the worn paper up to read it again, though she need not have bothered. She already knew what it said by heart. She doubted she would ever forget.

_Late this evening, at approximately ten o'clock, Diagon Alley's sky exploded with sound and the terrifyingly familiar form of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's dark mark. After many months of agonizingly silent waiting, You-Know-Who has finally attacked and sadly two more names can be added to the growing list of casualties._

_Fredrick(Fred) and George Weasley made an apparent stop at their joke shop Weasley Wizard Wheezes on their way to celebrate Christmas with their family late this evening. As far as can be determined, when the two boys entered their shop they set or a series of explosions that demolished the building and destroying all evidence._

_Officials from the Ministry are still uncertain as to what curses caused the explosion, or why the popular store owners were targeted. What is certain is that as the building burned with a fire so intense it melted the ice and snow on the near by shops and streets, the dark mark appeared in the sky. No identifying remains of the two wizards were found in the wreckage._

_Mr. Arthur Weasley, father of the two victims and Ministry Employ, has asked that the public respect the family's privacy and that the family be left to greave in peace._

_Special Correspondent Elizabeth Star_

Hermione let the paper fall to the floor, face up beside her bed. She curled into a tight ball, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped protectively about them. Her overwhelming guilt and anguish debilitated her. If it hadn't been for her Fred and George would never have gone to Diagon Alley that night and they might still be alive today. The realization of the anguish she had brought upon the Weasley family weighed on her heart making it almost unbearable to breath. She closed her eyes and silent tears slid down her cheeks.

She had sent her condolences straight away of course, but had restrained herself from joining the family at Grimmauld Place. She had no right to partake on their grief. She couldn't bear the thought of crying with them, knowing full well it was her fault the twins were gone. She thought often of going and begging Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for their forgiveness but was never able to do it. How could she ask them to forgive her when she couldn't even forgive herself?

"Poppet?" There was a gentle nock at her door. Hermione turned away from the sound as her father opened the door and walked gingerly into the room. "I brought you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry." She said just loud enough to be heard.

Sighing heavily, Mr. Granger set the tray he was caring down and sat on the bed beside his daughter. "Hermione, sweetheart." He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, easing her onto her back. "You have to eat, Poppet. Starving yourself isn't going to do any good."

"I know that. I just…" she glanced at the tray of food and felt the familiar wave of nausea. "I can't."

Mr. Granger nodded. "Would you like to talk about what's been going on?"

Hermione glanced up at her father and felt a fresh wave of guilt. She realized suddenly that she had been keeping her mother and father isolated from her life not only in regards to the wizarding world but also to her personal life. With fresh tears in her eyes she sat up and wrapped her arms around her father's middle.

"Everything has gone so horribly wrong," she buried her face in his shoulder, her body wracked with anguished sobs. "I don't know how to fix it."

"Hush." Mr. Granger soothed, running his fingers through her tangled hair. "It can't be all that bad."

"It is." She pulled away wiping angrily at the streaks of salty tears marring her red skin. She lowered her head so that she wouldn't have to look into her fathers understanding brown eyes, the warm brown eyes that Hermione had inherited. "Ron and I had a row. A nasty row. The worst one we ever had." Mr. Granger remained silent knowing that his little girl needed to speak at her own pace. "He called me something. Something foul and low. I never thought I would hear him say those words to me."

"Then what happened?"

Hermione turned away. "He asked me to forgive him and I wouldn't. I ran away instead." Mr. Granger's eyes widened with understanding. "It's my fault Fred and George were in Diagon Alley Christmas night." Tears glistened in her eyes. "They were with Ron because he knew I didn't want to see him." Her voice chocked with tears. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Mr. Granger pulled his daughter protectively into his arms, hating to see his pride and joy hurting this much. "You know what you have to do, Poppet." He rubbed his hand soothingly up and down her back like he use to when she would run into his room from a bad dream.

She shuttered. "I…I don't think I'm brave enough." She admitted with shame.

Dr. Granger put Hermione from him. "Well the first step is to get out of bed, take a shower and eat some breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Hermione glanced bewilderedly towards the clock. It read 7:23 a.m. Her mouth fell open. "I've been up all night?"

Mr. Granger nodded vaguely. "And Professor Dumbledore will be here in a few hours to send you back to Bulgaria."

Hermione's stiffened with shock. "Merlin. That's today, isn't it?" She threw her blankets off and scampered out of bed. "I completely forgot. How did I let this happen?" She scolded herself as she dashed across the room to open the lid of her trunk and start tossing her possessions inside.

"Poppet." Hermione's head whipped around at the sound of her father's voice. "Eat, shower, then pack." Hermione glanced at the tray of food and grimaced. "Then at least take a shower." He persisted. "Your mother and I can smell you all the way downstairs."

Hermione playfully threw a sock at her father and stuck out her tongue as he backed out the door. "Ha, ha, dad. Very funny." She called as the door clicked closed.

Spinning around she grabbed her dressing gown and hurried to the bathroom where she lathered her hair twice and scrubbed her body thoroughly before she felt like she was finally clean.

Once out of the shower she used her wand to dry her hair using a spell Maj had taught her that would put her curls perfectly into place as they dried. When the last ringlet took form beside her eye she rushed back to her room and magiced all her belongings near her trunk. She knelt down in front of the large rectangle box and began to place the items strategically inside. She knew she could magic them in but found that her belongings always fit nicer and came out neater when she put them in by hand.

When her last robe was placed neatly on top of the pile she closed the lid and latched it tight. Using her wand to levitate it into the air she moved towards the stairs, the trunk suspended in front of her. It was times like this, she had to admit, she loved being of age.

Hermione was halfway down the flight of stairs when the bell rang at the front door. She watched her mother hurry across the entrance hall from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a clean towel as she went. Hermione hurried her steps when she noticed the time on the clock. It was nearly ten. Dumbledore would be there soon. Who could possibly be coming to call now?

"Hello Mrs. Granger." She froze at the achingly familiar sound of his voice. "Is Hermione home?"

The trunk crashed to the steps with a mighty roar when in her shock Hermione dropped her arm. The wooden trunk skid all the way down the steps to the shinny hardwood floor below and burst open against the opposite wall, sending her possessions flying everywhere.

"Hello, Mione." He stepped through the door that Mrs. Granger still held open and dropped his rucksack just inside the entrance.

Hermione found she couldn't respond and only managed to open her mouth, for her mind was a complete blank. She couldn't believe Ron Weasley was standing in her house.

The pair continued to stair at each other as Mrs. Granger closed the door. Looking between her daughter and her best friend, she got the impression that the two needed some time alone and so made a hasty retreat back into the kitchen where she was backing cakes and sweets of all kinds. The door swung noiselessly closed but in the intense silence that held the two teenagers it sounded loud enough to be cannon fire.

Hermione cringed as the clock struck a quarter till, breaking her out of her trance like state. She knew she had been staring at him but she couldn't seem to help herself. He had grown even taller since August. He was at the very least two heads taller then her. But that wasn't the only difference she noticed about him. His hair was a bit longer, not enough to be unruly but enough to look unkempt. She hated to admit it but she found it utterly charming the way that the ends just barley swept in front of his eyes, tempting her to reach up and brush it back from the shocking blue orbs.

Hermione looked away from his penetrating eyes and wished she hadn't for she was now face to face with a torso that was defined with use. His once lanky from had filled out, no doubt to the hours he spent practicing and training for Quiditch. His arms looked strong and safe as well and she had to fight the unnerving need to step close and beg him to wrap his arms around her in comfort.

Ron sighed as he watched her look him over. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. She was as heartbreakingly beautiful as he remembered. With pale skin that looked soft to the touch, he was forced to stick his hand in his pocket to keep it from reaching out and grazing the curve of her cheek. Her eyes were the same deliciously, tantalizing shade of chocolate brown that he remembered and he thought if she would let him he could drown in them.

Ron let his eyes wonder from the charming beauty of her face to her hair; her hair that he loved probably more then anything else about her. He always saw it as her one physical manifestation of the fiery nature that burned just beneath the surface. It was that same fiery nature that came out when ever they quarreled. It was exhilarating and intoxicating to watch all at the same time, and Ron found that he was irreversibly drawn to it.

Ron's lips turned down at the corner with disappointment and shock. He realized with a start that it was gone. All that glorious hair was gone. He felt a sudden wave of furry rise in him.

"You cut your hair!" He gasped accusingly.

Instantly Hermione's fingers reached up to run through the soft tendrils. "Yes, I did. Do you like it?"

"No!" Ron scowled at her as if she were crazy. "What on earth possessed you to cut off your hair?"

Feeling horribly self-conscious of a sudden, Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle. "Well we had a ball… and I thought I could do with a bit of a make over."

Ron's annoyance mounted with each passing moment. How dare she let anyone touch those amazing curls of hers, and for some stupid git at a ball? "I hate it." He muttered angrily. "You were beautiful the way you were. You shouldn't have to change for anyone."

Hermione was taken back by surprise. Her mouth gapped not knowing what to say. After several minutes of searching her brain for something mediocrely intelligent she settled on "What are you doing here anyway?" And could have kicked herself for sounding so stupid.

Ron turned to the side and let his eyes drift over the family portraits hanging on the wall, studying the first one with rapt attention. "Dad ran into Percy yesterday at work." At the mention of Ron's father it hit her that what she should have asked was what exactly had happened in Diagon Alley and if he was all right? How was he handling what happened and lastly for his forgiveness. But she didn't have the courage to interrupt him and face the accusatory look she knew she deserved. So she let him continue.

"Apparently he feels terrible for being a bloody git last year and has been trying to find a way since…since what happened in the Department of Mysteries, to reconcile with the family." Ron moved onto the next picture, forcing himself not to look at her. "Dad said Percy broke into tears right in the middle of the hallway, blubbering something about how Fred and George were his brothers too, and even though they made him mad sometimes with their childishness he still loved them. And how he hated that things had gotten so bad between him and the family that he had to learn about their deaths from a news paper article."

Hermione's hand went up to cover her mouth as tears streamed from her tear strained eyes. She gulped back a sob, tilting her head to the side with confusion. She didn't understand how Ron could speak so unemotionally about this. All anyone need do is mention the twins in front of her and she found herself unable to withhold her tears but Ron was standing before her, as calm as you please as if loosing two brothers was an everyday occurrence.

Ron turned at the sound of Hermione gasping down a sob, his face screwed up in puzzlement. "What are you crying for?"

"It's all my fault." She chocked out between sobs. "If I hadn't chased you away on Christmas Fred and George would still be alive."

Ron started with bewilderment. "Mione..."

"No, let me finish." She rubbed her arms fiercely with her dainty hands, feeling cold of a sudden. "You have no idea how tormenting it is to have the death of another on you conscience. If I hadn't been so stubborn and unyielding Fred and George would still be alive. I know I always complained about them, but they were like those obnoxious older brothers you always expect to be around and..."

"Mione!" Ron practically shouted to be heard over her tirade. "What are you talking about?"

"Fred and George." She cried. "I'm so sorry, Ron."

Ron shook his glossy head with bewilderment. "Mione, Fred and George are alive."

"What?" Hermione felt like her insides had gone suddenly cold.

"Fred and George are alive." He stated again. "They didn't die in the fire."

A wave of lightheadedness hit her so suddenly that she almost stumbled to her knees. Ron instinctually reached out to help her remain on her feet but Hermione flung his hand away in fury. "What do you mean Fred and George are alive?"

Ron stepped back at the rage that had replaced the anguish in Hermione's eyes. "Umm." He stammered. "I thought you knew."

"You thought I knew?" Her fists clenched angrily at her sides. "All I _knew _was that I received a news paper telling me that Fred and George died when their shop exploded."

"Well they would have if Fred hadn't used his wand to open the door."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? Why the secrecy? Why the lie?"

"That was Dumbledore's idea." Ron held up as if to fend off her blame. "He has them working for the Order now. They're designing weapons of stealth. You know, like those coins you made last year. Things that people would never think have another purpose."

"I still don't understand. Why the secrecy?"

Ron shrugged unhelpfully. "Dumbledore thinks it will be safer for everyone if no one knows who is inventing these things. Besides, now Fred and George are no longer under the watch of the Ministry. It gives them more reign to experiment. Do you have any more questions?"

"Yes!" Hermione shouted irately. "How could you not tell me they were alive!" She ragged at him. The anguish and torment building inside her from the past two days coming forth in anger directed at the youngest Weasley son. She pounded against his chest with each angry word. "All this time I've been killing myself with guilt because I thought I was responsible for their deaths. How could no one have told me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know." Ron took hold of her wrists and stilled them from pounding on his chest. "Harry said he was going to contact you with the mirror, let you know what was going on. He didn't say anything to me so I assumed you knew."

Hermione pulled her wrists free of his grip. "The mirror is in Bulgaria. I assumed I would have no need for it here. Why couldn't I have been written a letter? Anything to let me know what was going on."

"For the same reason we couldn't write Harry information before fifth year. Letters are being watched and intercepted all the time. How was anyone supposed to explain in a letter what was going on without another person being able to interpret it?"

Hermione sank onto the bottom step, her head falling in her hands. "I knew I should have brought home that mirror."

Ron grimaced with distaste. "I hate that bloody mirror." He explained when Hermione looked up at him questioningly. "It nearly ruined my friendship with Harry and Ginny."

Feeling particularly vexed at being kept in the dark about Fred and George, suffering two days of anguished torture, she let her stubborn side that refused to forgive Ron take over, replacing the need she had felt for several days now to beg him and the rest of his family for forgiveness. "From what I hear," she said snidely, "you did a fine job of that without the mirror."

Ron glared at her. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"That _means _you've been a brooding, reclusive git all year on your own. Sneaking off alone all the time. You brought it on yourself."

Ron's eyes had narrowed to tiny slits. "You forced my best friend to lie to me."

"Really, Ron." She rolled her eyes. "If that's the best you got?"

Ron thrust his fingers into his fiery red hair in frustration. "I knew it was a mistake to come here today."

Hermione bound to her feet. "Then why did you?"

"I don't know." He snapped, whirling around to face her. "Perhaps I'm a gluten for punishment." Hermione started at the sound of such sophisticated words coming from the normally inarticulate red heads mouth. "Actually, I came because Harry begged me to come here and try one more time to fix things between us. But I see now that was probably a mistake."

Before Hermione had a chance to react let alone respond the Grandfather Clock, tucked safely away in the study of the Granger's house, chimed the stroke of ten. Hermione's head snapped up and her eyes bulged with horror. "Oh no." She spun on her heel to face her trunk which was still lying on its side, its contents spread out over the floor. "Dumbledore's going to be here any moment."

Hermione turned to Ron, placed her hands on his arm and gave him a shove towards the door. "You have to go. I have to repack."

Ron dug his heals into the floor and spun around. "Mione, we have to talk."

Hermione stopped pushing to brush the hair that had fallen in front of her eyes behind her ears. "Ron, I really don't have time for this."

"Well make time." he roared with frustration causing her to stumble back in surprise. "I'm tired, Hermione. I don't want to do this anymore. We have to talk about what happened."

"What's there to talk about?" Hermione bristled, crossing her arms and glaring at him angrily. "You called me a, Mudblood."

"For Merlin's sake!" He cried with exasperation. "How many times must I apologize? I made a mistake. I called you the worse thing imaginable. But you can hardly blame me."

Hermione's mouth dropped open with indignation. "Are you trying to say it's _my _fault _you _called me a Mudblood?"

"Well, if you hadn't called me a weasel and a pauper I never would have said it."

Hermione balked with surprise. "I didn't call you that."

"Yes you did." He pointed his finger in large arch to the side, pointing in the general direction of Grimmauld Place. "I can name at least four people who were there and can act as witness if you don't believe me."

Hermione racked her brain for her memory of that day but found that everything leading up to him calling her that name was a blank. She could remember clearly the events afterwards but had the sinking suspicion that she was forgetting something vital from before hand. "I would never…" she stammered uncertainly.

"You did." Ron cut her off before she could object further. "You called me a weasel and a pauper which is something only Draco Malfoy does. Draco Malfoy, Hemrione! You can hardly blame me can you?" Ron looked away unwilling to let Hermione see the anguish he knew was evident in his eyes. "I reacted to those words the same way I would have if he had said them. I went for what I knew would hurt the most. So I said it. I called you a Mudblood. And I'm sorry." He clutched at his chest meaningfully, his eyes watering with tears. "You have no idea how sorry. But I'm not going to do this anymore. I'm not going to let you put all the blame on me."

Feeling a similar lurch in her stomach to the one she had felt Christmas night when Ginny had reprimanded her, her mind spun with thought as she tried to grasp what he had said. If it was true… she couldn't bear to think of how wrong she had been.

Feeling pressure build behind her eyes from the distressing thoughts running through her mind, she seized on one thing she knew for fact was true. "I have to pack." She said dumbly, stepping around Ron to her trunk, extracting her wand from her pocket.

"Mione." He took hold of her arm and turned her around, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not going to do this anymore. If you leave for Bulgaria without fixing this…that's it. I'm not going to fight anymore."

"Ron, I can't not go back to school."

"No. But you can wait a few hours and straighten things out with me first."

Hermione took a calming breath. "Dumbledore is on his way. My portkey…"

"You know," he interrupted her. "I never thought I would see the day where school meant more to you then friendship." he shook his head sadly as he released her. "Go." He waved his hand at the pile of her belongings. "Run back to Bulgaria and that stupid git you have mooning over you."

Hermione felt a sinking feeling around her heart. "It's not like I have a choice, Ron." Hermione argued. "I have to go."

When he looked at her his eyes were alarmingly cold and lifeless. "Fine." He waved his hand aimlessly in a thrashing motion. "I'm done."

Hermione stiffened with uncertainty. "Done with what?"

Ron shrugged his broad shoulders. "Everything." He shook his head sadly. "I've tried everything and anything I could think of to get you to forgive me. And nothings worked. So I give up. I'm not going to fight anymore."

"Good." Hermione nodded. "I don't want to fight either."

The broken boy shook his head causing his mane of red hair to fall in his eyes, tempting Hermione even now to reach out and brush it back into place with her fingers. "I don't think you understand Mione. I'm not just done fighting with you. I'm done _fighting_." He put great emphasis on the last word. "I'm done fighting with you. But mostly I'm done fighting _for_ you." Hermione's eyes widened when she realized what exactly he was saying to her. "I've lost you." He put his hand over his heart. "You don't know how much it hurts me to say it…so I'm not going to do it anymore." Ron reached out and she flinched slightly when his fingers grazed her cheek as he caught a strand of her mahogany hair and ran it through two of his fingers. "There's just something I have to do before I let you go."

Hermione swallowed audibly, feeling uncomfortable under his penetrating blue eyes. "Really? And what's that?"

"This." He caught her face between his large hands, imbedding his fingers into the soft strands of her hair. Hermione's eyes widened with shock when he pulled her in suddenly and tilted her head back, his lips descended purposefully towards hers. Before she fully realized what was happening he was kissing her. His strong, soft lips clung magically to hers as her eyes drifted closed and she melted into the tenderness of his kiss. Her lips parted under his with the slightest pressure and his tongue swept into her mouth to tangle tantalizingly with hers. Hermione gasped with delight and then with horror as the sound of her own moan broke the spell that was swirling around her.

She pushed firmly against the chest she had moments ago been clinging to, pushing Ron from her and effectively ending the kiss. She glared accusingly at the tall red hair as she swiped angrily at her lips. "What the hell was that? You had no right. I have a…"

"I needed to know." He broke in awkwardly.

Hermione licked her lips tentatively, still unsure of what to make of this all. "Know what?" Her hands were planted firmly on her hips now.

Ron blushed sheepishly. "If you were my one and only."

"You're what?"

Ron shook his head sadly. "It doesn't matter. I lost you anyway." His lip twitched up in the coroner in a defeated sort of half smile. "I should be going." He nodded his head towards her trunk. "And you still have to pack."

Hermione watched Ron's retreating back until he was stooping to retrieve his bag. She didn't know what made her do it but suddenly she found herself calling after him. "Should I say hello to Viktor for you?"

Ron cringed with his hand on the handle. Slowly he turned to look at her. "No." He said evenly. "But why don't you say hello to Bjorn for me instead?"

Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "You know about Bjorn?"

Ron nodded sadly. "I know about everything, Mione. I know that you went to the Halloween Ball with him, that you cut your beautiful hair for him." Hermione transferred her weight uncomfortably at the sincerity she heard in his voice. "I know that I have been trying to get a hold of you for the past six months, but you sent all my owls back unopened. I know that you asked my best friend and my little sister to lie to me and that you had no intention of letting me know that you came home for Christmas." Ron's strong chin quivered slightly. "I might be thick, Mione, but I would have noticed both Harry and Ginny disappearing for several hours on Christmas day. Which reminds me..."

Hermione watched as Ron reached for his rucksack which he had hung jauntily over his shoulder and pulled it around to the front of his body. He undid the closing and pulled from within a square box wrapped in shinny paper of scarlet with a delicate ribbon of gold. He held the package out to her. He waited for her to take it before murmuring. "Happy Christmas."

Hermione stared disbelieving down at the package she held in her hands her emotions rioting once again and so did not notice that Ron had slipped out of the house without saying another word to her.


	15. Moving On

Chapter 15: Moving On

"Ron I…" Hermione looked up and froze with a start realizing that she was standing alone in her front hall. "Ron!" she called as she ran to the front door flinging it open, and being instantly blinded by the sun glaring off the snow. "Ron!" She cried as she ran into the ice slicked street, loosing her footing and almost falling in her haste. "Ron!" She skidded to a halt and looked down the street to her left and then to her right. Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. It was too late. Ron was gone.

Feeling bewildered, defeated and lost, Hermione stared unseeingly down the deserted street, absently pressing her fingers to her slightly swollen, kiss tender lips. She didn't know what to make of the events of the morning. Everything she had known as truth was being contradicted by things she was learning. How was she supposed to make sense of anything when it didn't make any sense?

Fred and George were alive? She still couldn't believe that was possible. While she did feel acute relief and joy with the news, she couldn't help but be angry that she had been left in the dark for so long. How could that have let her believe for almost three days that… even now the guilt weighed heavily on her.

And what was Ron thinking? It was not _her_ fault _he_ had called her a Mudblood. Or at least that was what she tried to tell herself. But the more she thought about it the more unsure she became. What if she really had called Ron a weasel and a pauper? Hermione pushed the idea aside. It was too horrendous to even consider. Because if what Ron had said was true then she had made a horrible mistake. A mistake so ghastly it may have cost her not only his friendship, but if his actions of the day were any indication, then perhaps his love as well. Hermione shook her head dispelling the foolish idea. That wasn't possible. One did not call the person they fancy a Mudblood. But then again, if Ron was to be believed, she had called the boy she fancied a weasel and a pauper.

Hermione groaned as a fresh wave of pain built behind her eyes. It was all so complicated and confusing. She didn't know what to believe anymore or where she could go for answers. She couldn't find what she needed in a book this time. If only she could talk to Ester. She was very good at sorting out people's thoughts and emotions. Suddenly Hermione found herself missing her friend and the aura of calm and understanding she radiated. She needed Ester's guidance now more then ever.

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice called from the depths of the house disturbing the frenzied thoughts still racing about in her brain. "Hermione?" She appeared in the doorway. "Why is the door open? What are you doing out here?" Her lips turned down in a frown. "Really Hermione. It's nearly 10:30. Dumbledore will be here any moment and your school things are still spread across the hall."

Hermione gave a final look down the street before turning with Ron's present tucked under her arm and followed her mother into the house. Mrs. Granger went on to the kitchen while Hermione walked to her trunk using her wand to turn it upright before kneeling before it. Hastily she began throwing her belongings in wanting to finished before Dumbledore arrived.

Hermione jumped with fright when the front doorbell rang for the second time that morning. She looked up her face a mask of horror. She was only half finished packing her trunk and he was here.

"I'll answer it!" She called anxiously to her mother in the kitchen as she rose to her feet, brushing her hands against her robes. Reaching the door she flung it open to reveal the headmaster standing there in his proper muggle attire. Though surprisingly flattering Hermione thought he looked utterly bizarre. She had only ever seen him in his wizarding robes and a grey pinned-stripped suit did not fit within that model she had formed for him in her mind.

"Headmaster." She greeted finally, shaking herself out of her surprised stupor.

"Miss Granger." Dumbledore smiled at the young girl. "How wonderful to see you again."

Hermione smiled tentatively as she stepped aside giving him access to her home. "Won't you come in?"

The old wizard smiled back as he stepped through the portal into the brightly lit hallway. He stopped suddenly and turned, eyes twinkling. "Ahh. I see I have arrived too early."

Hermione blushed red with humiliation. "I had everything packed sir, I swear." She stammered. "I was bringing my trunk down the stairs when I lost control and…" She gestured to the remaining books and robes still lying scattered on the floor.

"Not to worry, Miss Granger." Dumbledore assured her as he turned back to the pile. Hermione wasn't certain where he had been storing it, but the next moment he had his wand in hand and was waving it over her belongings and they rose gracefully from the floor and landed neatly in her trunk. The lid closed with a smart click and the latches slid into place. "Excellent." Dumbledore gave his wand another graceful wave causing the trunk to glow and hum for a few moments until settling once again on the flower. "There." He turned back to Hermione. "One less think to worry about."

Hermione turned at the sound of her mother coming from the kitchen, towel tossed over her shoulder and her father coming down the stairs from his own privet study, book in hand.

"You're leaving then?" Mrs. Granger asked her daughter sadly, holding her arms open for Hermione to step into. "I'll miss you love." She murmured in her daughter's ear as she hugged her close.

"I'll miss you too, mum."

"Have a wonderful second term." Mrs. Granger released Hermione so that she could turn and fling herself in her father's waiting arms.

Mr. Granger pulled her tight to him and kissed the crown of her head. "I love you, Poppet."

"I love you too, dad." She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away to once again face the Headmaster. "I'm ready." She sighed giving the hall one last look to make sure she hadn't missed anything in her haste.

Dumbledore nodded. "Well Miss Granger." He extended his hand. "Enjoy the rest of your stay."

Hermione took his long fingered hand and shook it. "Thank you, Headmaster. I will."

"When you're ready then."

After promising her parents several times that she would write frequently she took a deep breath and took hold of her trunk handle. She felt the familiar tug behind her naval and the sensation of being pitched forward, spinning through space.

* * *

Harry and Ginny were alone in the sitting room playing an equally matched game of chess. The rest of the family was scattered about the house doing various activities. Fred and George had taken over the attic and had turned it into their own private laboratory and were up there now perfecting various inventions for the orders use. Bill and Charlie had disappeared with their perspective girlfriends several hours ago and no one had seen hide or hair of them since. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Proffesors Snape and McGonagall, Lupin and Mad Eye were tucked away in the kitchen, discussing matters that were 'unsuitable' for Harry and Ginny's tender ears.

Which is why the two teenagers were held up in the sitting room now playing chess and pretending not to notice the other glancing at each other periodically. Harry, of course, was rather annoyed that the adults had excluded him once again, but found that Ginny was doing an admiral job of keeping his mind otherwise occupied.

When Ron slinked into the room and slumped dejectedly into the nearest armchair, dropping his rucksack at his feet, Harry and Ginny glanced at each other then at him. Almost as one they bound to their feet, knocking the chess board over in their haste, causing the small pieces to fall to the floor, screaming with indignation.

Ignoring the shrieking chess pieces Harry rushed to his friend, knowing as soon as he had entered the room that things hadn't gone as they had hoped. "Ron?" he asked uncertainly.

The red haired youth looked up at his friend and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry slunk back in surprise. "What? What for?"

"For being a terrible friend." What ever answer Harry had been expecting it wasn't that. "I know I've been a moody git all year," Ron explained, "and I haven't really been there for you." He pounded his fist on the arm of the chair in emphasis. "But I'm not going to let that happen anymore."

Ginny gapped astonished at her brother. "Bloody hell, Ron. What happened?"

"Nothing." Ron looked sadly into her brown eyes. He shook his head desolately. "I might as well not even have gone for all the good it did." Harry and Ginny remained silent as they watched Ron's brow scrunch together, a sign that he was deep in thought. "That's it then." He said nodding, obviously coming to a decision. He looked up at his best friend and his little sister. "Who wants to play me in a game of Wizard's Chess?"

When neither responded but continued to gape at him as if he had gone mental, Ron pushed himself to his feet. "Come on Harry, Ginny. How am I supposed to prove to you I've turned over a new leaf if neither of you will play chess with me?"

"A new leaf?" Harry questioned. "What are you talking about?"

Ron sighed knowing he would have to explain himself further. "I haven't been fare to you, mate. Hermione said something to me today that got me thinking. She said that I had done a fine enough job myself ruining our friendship. And she was right. I've been ignoring you and everyone else since August. And I'm not going to do it anymore. If you have to kill V-Voldemort," he still stuttered and cringed at the name, "I guess I can be there and help you any way I can. If that means that I have to provide you with a little comic relief, then I will. So," he clapped his hands together with a loud smack. "Who wants me to trounce them in chess?"

Unsure of what to make of Ron's sudden change in mood Harry accepted his challenge and settled for what he was sure would be a swift and deadly match between himself and his best mate.

Ron settled back in his chair after thoroughly thrashing Harry for a fourth game. He let his eyes look over Harry and Ginny. Surprising even himself her asked.

"Why don't you tell me about Rane Voitekh?"

Harry and Ginny both started with surprise. Ron had avoided the subject of Hermione's exchange partner as fiercely as he had the person. Neither could fathom what on earth would posses him to ask about her now. Harry lifted a suspicious eyebrow which caused Ron to chuckled with ill humored understanding. "I guess I've come to realize that it's not her fault that Hermione left."

"And it took you this long to figure that out?" Ginny cried punching him playfully, though surprisingly hard, on the arm.

Ron rubbed the tender spot she had left with exaggeration. "Leave off, Ginny." He whined dramatically, nudging her back with his shoulder. "Seriously, what is she like?"

Harry settled back in his seat, Ginny taking a new seat next to him, suspiciously close though Harry was the only one to notice. He felt heat rush to his face when she shifted in her seat and her knee bumped against his. Swallowing audibly Harry began, "She's really nice and outgoing." He racked his brain for more things to say in her favour but found to his dismay that it was surprisingly blank, all thoughts having fled it at Ginny's touch. "She's very smart." He stammered when he realized that he had been quiet for to long and Ron was beginning to watch him funny. "If you hadn't been so stubborn about being set against her I'm sure you would really like her."

Ron nodded. "Then I guess I'm going to have to give her a chance, aren't I?"

And true to his word Ron did give her a chance, much to the surprise of not only Gryffindor but the rest of the school. As soon as he returned to Hogwarts at the end of the holiday he set out in search of Rane. He found her tucked away in the corner of the common room at one of the many tables, nose buried deep in a book. Taking a deep breath to bolster his confidence, Ron strode purposefully forward and stopped at her elbow.

"Hello Rane." The Bulgarian girl looked up in surprise at the sound of Ron's voice. "Could I join you?"

Rane nodded dumbly and moved aside a stack of books and extra parchment making room for Ron. Feeling awkward he pulled out the extra chair, dropping his bag of books on the table. He sank into the chair and scooted it forward, stalling for time as he tried to think of something suitable to say to the girl he had ignored all year.

Rane waited patiently as Ron readied himself, tilting her head to the side to better observe him. She forced her lips to say straight as she watched him several times open his mouth to speak only to close it shut again with a snap. Growling with exasperation he ran his fingers through his hair causing it to stand on end.

Taking pity on him Rane reached out and set a friendly hand on his arm. "It's all right, Ron."

"I wasn't… I mean, how did you know I was going to apologize?"

Rane smiled knowingly, twitching her eyebrows up playfully. "Magic."

Ron rolled his eyes at her pathetic attempt at a joke. "Yes well, I really am sorry for ignoring you. It was really very rude."

"Like I said before, there really is no need. I understand."

"You do?"

Rane nodded slowly. "Probably better then you realize." She said on hushed breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." She dismissed his question on a bright note. "I was just talking to myself. It's a bad habit I have, I know. But…" she shrugged. "What are you going to do?"

Ron couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't know." Shaking his head he reached for his bag readying himself to stand up. "Well, I should go work on some last minute assignments. They won't get done if I don't start them." Ron stopped halfway between rising, a peculiar look on his face. "Gods. I'm starting to sound like Hermione."

"You could stay here and study with me if you like."

Ron contemplated her suggestion for a moment before nodding and resettling himself in his seat. He set his bag on the table and pulled from inside it his charms book. He opened it to the right page and propped it against the stack of books and parchment Rane had moved aside moments ago. He pulled out his half completed essay checked a fact in the book and set to work filling the rest of the parchment.

Rane stared at the red haired boy for several minutes making him shift awkwardly under her penetrating stare. "What?" He asked finally looking up.

Rane smiled and turned back to her book. "Nothing."

Ron waited for her to explain but when she continued to ignore him in favour or reading her book Ron was forced to return to his own work, a satisfied grin on his face. There was something familiar and comforting about Rane's actions. But he didn't question it.

Several hours later Harry came down to the common room looking for Ron. He had expected his friend to come to bed several hours ago. What he saw when he reached the common room made him pause first in surprise before smiling with happiness. Ron was still sitting next to Rane, his Charms assignment forgotten in front of him. The two were locked deep in discussion, the subject of which Harry was unsure of.

Instead of interrupting them Harry turned around on the stair and went back up to his dorm and climbed into bed. He didn't here Ron come in until after one.

Harry noticed a drastic change in his friend over the next few days. While before break Ron had avoided most girls, particularly Rane, like they were a resurgence of the plague, he was now seen conversing with them quiet frequently between classes in the hall, or at meals in the Great Hall. And it had also become part of his daily routine to work on his assignments with Rane at the same table in the corner of the common room. However, the most astounding spectacle to see, most would agree, would be the rare occasions Ron was seen sitting with an entire group of giggling girls talking about some of his more spectacular moves on the Quiditch pitch.

While Ron had returned to a state close to his formal self he still didn't smile, or laugh or even joke as much as he use to. Most blamed his quiet state on the death of his older brothers, everyone knew how close the Weasley's were after all. But it was also decided that at some point during the holidays Ron had finally gotten over Hermione Granger. That along with most of the schools need to console Ron on the loss of his brothers caused a resurgence in the attempts of the fairer sex in their pursuit of the youngest, and decidedly most handsome, Weasley brother.

Lavender Brown alone had not only doubled, but tripled her attempts to win over Ron's affection. It was almost a guarantee that wherever Lavender was she was within eyesight of Ron. It was now a running joke in Gryffindor that if you ever needed to find Lavender you need only look for an obvious crop of red hair.

It didn't bother Harry that Ron was receiving so much attention. He had always understood his friends need to stand out, to be known apart from his family. No, what bothered Harry was the way Ron was handling it. In the past Ron would blush crimson if a pretty girl looked at him twice, now Lavender was placing her hand on his arm or shoulder, and if she was feeling especially daring, his thigh, regularly and Ron no more noticed this then he would if a fly landed on him. Harry couldn't understand it. It was as if Ron didn't even realize that a good portion of the people flocking around him were in fact girls. Or maybe, Harry realized with a start, he did notice…but just didn't care.


	16. Ester's Gift

Chapter 16: Ester's Gift

Ester frowned irritably as she gathered her books together and stuffed them angrily into her bag. She didn't know why she was being so irrationally irate. Hermione and Bjorn had gone off on their own many times before, why should it bother her now after she had been watching it happen since Halloween. It wasn't as if anything that happened in their relationship directly affected her.

The only thing was… Hermione hadn't been the same since she got back from England. She was quieter then she used to be, more reclusive as well. She still came with the group to the study room but most nights she disappeared into the library to study alone.

Ester had her suspicions, which she couldn't confirm as of yet, but she suspected that the English girl was avoiding Bjorn as tactfully as she could. The dynamic between the two had shifted, and everyone had noticed. Hermione never sought Bjorn out anymore. The rare occasions that they did go off together, the excursions were always instigated by Bjorn. From observing the pair closely, which she was prone to do, she had noticed the way that Hermione flinched when ever Bjorn reached out to touch her or how simple things like him trying to hold her hand would make her blush scarlet and snatch it back.

That wasn't all that Ester noticed. She saw the irritation on her friend's face every time Bjorn filled her plate for her or tried to carry her bags. Two days ago when he had tried to do just that Hermione had snapped, shouting that she wasn't some weak being who couldn't very well carry her own bag, having done it for five years already. She had immediately apologized upon seeing the hurt look on Bjorn's face explaining that she was very sorry, and that she just had a lot on her mind right now. She ended up letting him carry her books to her next class anyway.

There was something different about Hermione Granger. Ester could sense it. It hung around the British girl like a heavy cloud affecting her and the people around her. Something had happened while she was at home, something that changed the very essence of who Hermione was. Though what that something was Ester was unsure. She would need to get closer, perhaps even talk to her to fully understand the ramifications.

But what she needed to know the ramifications of, that was mystery to her. Hermione had pulled her aside two days after they had returned and started to tell her perhaps what that was. But a few sentences into the conversation she had suddenly clammed up, her face blushing horribly red with mortification and she hadn't said another word.

Deciding that she needed to clear her head and that a walk was the proper way to do it, Ester set off leaving Maj and Yorick still sitting in two of the chairs in the study room.

Upon exiting the room and pulling the door closed behind her, she turned to her left and wondered aimlessly down the corridors. Before she knew it she had reached the main atrium and was looking about for a new destination. Her eyes settled on the front door. Despite the bitter chill she knew would greet her when she opened the doors, she walked towards them purposefully anyway deciding that she needed to breath in fresh air to truly clear her thoughts.

She took hold of the large brass handle, turned it forcefully for it liked to stick, and wrenched the door open, stepping back from the blast of frigid air. The shock of the biting wind took her breath away and made her gasp. Regretting her rash decision she began to turn, intending on closing the door and returning to the comforting warmth of her room when something outside caught her eye. She turned back and saw that Hermione and Bjorn were standing incredibly close together. Bjorn was staring at her with tenderness and Hermione was looking away with apparent coyness.

While Ester stood frozen watching, Bjorn reached out taking hold of Hermione's face, forced her chin up and kissed her hungrily. The wind rushed out of her as if she had been punched in the stomach. Stumbling back through the portal Ester struggled to close the door as the wind was blowing fiercely through, making it more difficult.

She had almost gotten it closed when a force from behind hit it and sent it bursting open, causing Ester to stumble back as Hermione hurried through ignoring Bjorn's calls from behind her. Ester watched with fascination as Hermione rushed up the stairs, never seeing her standing there, and disappearing behind the doors leading to the girl's wing. Bjorn skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairs calling her name one last time.

When Hermione didn't come back Bjorn turned and slumped down on the second step of the staircase, his head falling into both of his hands. His heavy sigh echoed in the silence of the almost abandoned atrium. Licking her lips Ester turned and forced the door shut. When she heard the door click into place she turned and walked tentatively towards the broad shouldered boy. "Bjorn." She said softly when she was standing beside him.

He looked up at her lazily, not bothering to raise his chin from his hands, and muttered "Hello. Where did you come from?"

"I was…going for a walk." She explained.

Bjorn returned his focus to the inlay of the wood flooring. "Did you see what happened?"

"Yes." Ester fidgeted awkwardly. "Do…do you mind if I sit down?"

Bjorn didn't bother to answer but shook his head no. Taking that as permission, Ester turned and lowered herself gingerly onto the step beside him, scooting as close as she possibly dared. "Bjorn, wh…"

"Do you have any idea what is bothering Hermione?" he asked suddenly, cutting her off. "She hasn't been the same since she got back from England."

Ester scooted a minuscule to her right so that she was that much closer to him. "No. She started to tell me when she got back but she stopped for some reason. I think she's embarrassed about something."

Bjorn lifted his head just enough so that he could turn and look at Ester with his pleading gray eyes. "Was it something that I did?" He dropped his hands and straightened. "Have I done anything to make her mad at me?"

Ester tilted her head to the side as she observed him closely. "No. I don't think it's anything you did. From what I have put together with the few things that she has told me this is a problem that started before she even arrived here."

Bjorn growled as he rammed his fingers into his hair with frustration and fisted them tight, tugging at the light colored locks. "This is so frustrating." He groaned. Still gripping his hair he turned to look at his good friend. "I really like her."

Ester was forced to look away as tears gathered in her eyes. "Yes." She reached out and patted his arm. "I…I know."

"Ester." He took hold of the hand patting his arm, forcing her to look at him. "Will you talk to her for me, please? See if there is anything I can do. I only want to help. And…" he sighed heavily. "I don't know. I'm so confused. I thought she really liked me."

"Bjorn I…"

"Ester please." He pleaded, "Will you talk to her?"

Cursing her inability to deny the dense boy anything he asked of her, she nodded her head. When he threw his arms around her in a grateful hug she felt a wonderful, though painful flutter in her chest. She closed her eyes to savor the moment as well as staunch the flow of tears she felt. Gods, she hated this.

When Bjorn released her she forced a supportive, assuring smile on her lips. She set her hands on her knees and used them to push herself into a standing position. "I will go talk to her now then." She thought her voice sounded slightly chocked but hopped he hadn't noticed.

"Ester." Bjorn took hold of her hand once again when she turned to walk up the stairs. She turned her head slowly to look at him and their eyes caught. They watched each other for a moment until Bjorn broke the intense silence by muttering. "Thank you." He released her hand and patted her shoulder awkwardly. "You're a great friend."

Ester smiled and nodded, but as soon as she was turned to walk up the stairs the smile faded to be replaced by a painful grimace. A great _friend._ She was resigned to the fact that that was all she would ever be. Bjorn's friend.

She spent the time it took to reach Hermione's room to compose herself. Her friends needed her and she was no good to them if she was an emotional wreck. Something was bothering Hermione and in return it was affecting her relationship with Bjorn. And while Ester might wish that things were different this is the way they were. If Bjorn wanted Hermione, if he thought she would make him happy…then Easter guessed she would do what she could to help the two. She would help guide them, steer them on their proper course no matter what it was or how much they fought it. It was her responsibility after all. If they were meant to be together she would do everything in her power to bring it about. If they weren't, and God she hoped they weren't, she would help guide them in the right direction.

Ester reached Hermione's door in what felt like entirely too little time and was forced to stop just outside and take several deep breaths. "All right, Ester." She encouraged herself. "It's time. You can do this." She turned back to the large door and lifted her hand to knock.

Hermione sat at the foot of her bed, head leaning against the post, three fingers tracing her bottom lip. She was staring at the square box wrapped in red paper and golden ribbon, letting her tormented thoughts do painful summersaults in her head when there was a knock at her door. "Go away, Bjorn." She called, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hermione." Came Ester's voice. "It's me. Let me in. I need to talk to you."

Hermione turned away from the door. "Please go away, Ester. I don't wish to talk right now."

There was a moment's pause before Ester's voice came again. "That's too bad because I'm not leaving until we do." The sound of her fist connecting with the door in smart, loud raps followed her words. "Either you let me in or I will stand here and knock until we've waken every girl on this floor. Do you want that on you conscience?"

Hermione sighed heavily as the pounding started again. She really was not in the mood to talk right now but knew that Ester was fully capable of doing exactly as she threatened, all night if that was what it took.

"Ester I…" Hermione began as she opened the door only to have Ester force her way in abruptly.

The Bulgarian girl turned around to face her friend with arms crossed stubbornly in front of her chest. "Hermione we need to talk. You haven't been yourself lately. Not since you returned from Christmas holiday. What happened?"

Knowing that Ester wasn't leaving until she had heard everything, Hermione closed the door before she went and took her original spot at the foot of her bed. "I…I think I've made a horrible mistake." She confessed, head bowed low so that her chin was almost touching her chest. Ester tilted her head to the side uncertain where Hermione was going with this but waited patiently for her to continue. Hermione looked at her lap where she was picking at the end of her nail with her pointer finger. "I've told you about my friend Ron, haven't I?"

Ester took a seat next to Hermione on the bed. "A little. Usually you only talk about him when it can't be avoided." Ester watched as her friend shifted awkwardly, her bottom lip captured painfully between her teeth. There was a sadness in her eyes and a heavy weight on her heart. Ester's eyes scrunched in deep observation for a minute before she straightened up, her head held high. "You still love him." She said bluntly.

Hermione's head snapped around in surprise, causing her hair to whip her in the face.

"You're still in love him. And if I'm right, which I'm sure I am, you had a confrontation with him while you were home."

Hermione's mouth gapped open. "Ester, how do you do that?"

The Bulgarian girl shrugged her shoulders "I told you. It's a gift. Now, are you going to tell me about it or are you not?"

For a moment Ester thought Hermione was going to remain stubbornly quiet but then she opened her mouth and started to speak in a voice filled with guilt and shame.

"I've fancied him for a long time. Maybe even since I first saw him sitting with Harry on the train to Hogwarts. He tried to turn his stupid rat yellow with a spell his older brother had given him. Now that I know his brother I can't believe he ever thought it would work. 'Sunshine daisies, butter mellow turn this stupid fat rat yellow.'" She laughed painfully at the memory. "Ridicules right? But he was so adorable while he did it. Ron and I have been fighting ever since I told him the spell wasn't any good. But yo…you know the odd thing is that it wasn't always bad. Sometimes I had fun arguing with him. It was always so much fun to best him." She pressed her lips together as she remembered one such argument. "He used to infuriate me sometimes, I will admit. But…we were always friends. Until this past summer that is."

"What happened?"

Hermione scrunched her brow in thought, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. "I don't know." She shook her head. "Something changed. We always argued before, but never like that. It didn't matter what he did, or what I did and we would start in on each other. It was terrible. And even are rows weren't the same. We never name called before, but we started this summer. And it just kept escalating until we both said things we didn't mean."

"Hermione?"

"I was so fixated on the fact that he called me a Mudblood and how hurt I was because I was in love with him that I forgot the horrible things I said to him." Tears were falling slowly from her misty eyes. Hermione turned to face her friend, her voice ruff with tears. "I'm so ashamed, Ester. This is all my fault." She tried to choke down her tears but failed miserably. "If I hadn't been so stubborn. If I had accepted just one of his letters." Hermione shook her head desolately. "But it's too late. He's finally given up on me."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because," Hermione nodded towards the window where a small owl the size of a fist was normally being tossed by the wind was conspicuously absent. "He hasn't written me a letter in more then three weeks. He told me he was done fighting for me. But…I…I guess I didn't believe him. He sent me a letter everyday for months and I didn't think he would actually stop." She took a shuttering breath. "But he has."

Ester rose and walked purposefully towards the window as if to look and make certain the small bird wasn't just hovering out of sight. She was so use to the sight of the miniscule owl she couldn't believe she had not noticed the fact that it was missing. She leaned forward and her hand brushed against foil wrapping, causing it to make a crinkling sound in the quiet room. She drew back to look down at the square box sitting on the corner of the desk. Picking it up she turned to face Hermione. "What is this?"

Hermione glanced at the package then away as if the sight of it cost her pain. "It's my Christmas gift from him."

Taking the package with her she sat next to Hermione once again. "Why haven't you opened it?"

Hermione ran a single finger along the ridge of the box. "I can't. It just doesn't seem right."

Ester nodded. Giving the box one last look she turned and set it aside on the table standing closest to the bed. "I think you should open it."

"Maybe someday… Ester?" Hermione shifted nervously.

"Yes."

Hermione looked up at her friend. "Bjorn kissed me."

Ester forced a smile on her lips. "That's wonderful." She said through painfully gritted teeth. "That's what you wanted. Isn't it?" She asked when she saw the dejected look on the British girls face.

"I don't know." Hermione turned her full body so that she sat facing her friend. "All these months Bjorn and I have been…together I guess. I truly thought I was falling for him. He is so sweet and kind, and handsome. He's everything that I should want. But when he kissed me…" Hermione pressed her fingers to her lips as she contemplated the kiss she had shared with Bjorn. "It felt… it felt like what I imagine kissing Harry would be like." She shuddered slightly at the thought. "Like kissing my brother. There was no spark, no tingling sensation in my stomach. I was indifferent. That's not how you should feel when you kiss the boy you think you fancy."

Ester straightened in her chair. "You think you fancy?"

"Who am I kidding?" Hermione groaned. "I never really fancied him. I think I fancied the idea of him more then anything. It's just…he tried so hard to be perfect for me. Filling my plate, holding my books walking me to class. He thinks he's doing me a favor but really he's driving me absolutely mad." Hermione bound to her feet and paced the short distance from her bed to the wall and back. "I mean even Ron knows that I need to do things on my own. And you don't get much thicker then him." Hermione thrust her fingers in her hair with frustration. "Ester, what am I suppose to do? Please help me."

"Well," Ester stood and put her hands on Hermione's shoulders, halting her nervous pacing. "The first thing you need to do is decide what you want."

"That's just it." She threw her hands up. "I don't know what I want."

"No." Ester gave her a slight shake, making her look into her eyes. "Hermione Granger, are you in love with Ronald Weasley?"

Hermione squeezed her eyes together and said the word as if it was being torn from her. "Yes."

"Then tell him." Ester said simply.

"I can't." Hermione stepped back, wrenching her shoulders free of Ester's hands.

"Why?" Ester cried, losing her patience. "What could possibly be stopping you?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, chocking on a fresh sob. "Don't you understand? He doesn't want me. He's told me he's done with me."

Ester sighed sadly. "Hermione." She wrapped her fingers around her friend's arm and drew her to the bed, forcing her to sit down next to her. "I want you to listen very closely to what I have to say. Don't make the same mistake that I did. Tell him how you feel."

"I already told you…"

"Hermione, it's not that easy to fall out of love once you've fallen into it." Ester felt a familiar ball rise in the back of her throat. "Believe me. I've been forced to watch the man I love with another girl, someone I consider a friend, and still I can not force myself to move on. And I can't change my feelings. It doesn't work that way."

"Ester. Who…"

Ester made a slashing motion with her hand, "Just tell him, Hermione. You may still have a chance."

Hermione gnawed painfully on her bottom lip. "What if he rejects me? I don't think I could bear that."

"Hermione Granger. Are you a Gryffindor or not? All year I've been listening to you talk about Hogwarts, and Gryffindor and all the adventures you've been on with Harry and Ron. How is it that you can risk your life, time and time again without bating an eye, but you can't tell one boy, someone who's been your best friend for five years, that you love him?"

Hermione's mouth gapped open wordlessly.

"Just do it Hermione. If what you say is true then you have nothing left to loose and everything to gain."

"And what of Bjorn?" Hermione argued stiffly, disliking being told what to do even of she knew that in the end she would comply. "I don't want to hurt him."

"You're already hurting him." Ester pointed her finger angrily towards the entrance hall several floors below. "He thinks _he's_ done something wrong. That you're mad at _him_ for something that he did."

"I know." Hermione crossed her arms and turned on the mattress so that her back was to Ester. "You're right of course. But…"

"No buts." Ester forced Hermione to turn around. "You tell him first thing tomorrow morning. It's not fair to torment him like that. And once you've told Bjorn you can go about telling Ron as well."

Ester waited with raised brow for Hermione's compliance and visually relaxed when she got it in a muttered. "All right. I will."

"Make sure that you do." Ester rose to her feet, took two steps and stopped. She turned and tapped the top of the foil wrapped box. "I think you should open this." She said before continuing towards the door.

"Ester." Hermione called when the other girl reached the exit. "Who is he?"

Ester kept her back to Hermione when she spoke. "Someone who is off limits to me for the time being."

There was a minute of silence where Hermione had her lip captured between her teeth again as she fitted together all that Ester had said that night, Finally she looked up with understanding widening her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Ester turned to face her unafraid to show the tears gathering in her eyes. "Everyone else knew. I've loved him ever since we were children. Are parents are friends you know, and we've been playing together since before I can even remember." She shrugged sadly. "Everyone knew."

"I didn't know." Hermione jabbed her finger at her chest. "If I had known I never would have…you know I wouldn't."

"That's why I couldn't hate you." Ester assured her. "Because you didn't do it on purpose and because you've always been so nice and… Besides," Ester whipped at the tears leaking down her face, hating herself for loosing control. "Bjorn only sees me as a friend. He'll never see me as anything else."

"Ester," Hermione laid a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "Why don't you take your own advice and tell him how _you_ feel?"

Ester turned, arms crossed to look contemplatively at Hermione. "I'll make you a deal, Hermione." She finally said. "As soon as you tell Ron how you feel, I'll tell Bjorn how I feel."

Ester decided to take Hermione's continuing silence as agreement and so nodded before turning once more to leave her room.

"Ester," Hermione called. "Thank you. For everything."

Ester pulled open the door. "Don't thank me yet."


	17. Victories and Defeats

Chapter 17: Victories and Defeats

"Bjorn," Hermione rose quickly to her feet when the Bulgarian turned to walk angrily away. "Please wait." Her eyes pleaded with him when he turned back to look at her. "I didn't want to hurt you like this."

"Hermione," Bjorn shook his head with disbelief. "What did you think would happen when you told me you didn't have feelings for me anymore? Did you think I was going to be thrilled with the idea?"

"No. Of course not."

"Well…what is there left to say then?"

"I don't know." She shook her head despondently. "I just…I'm really, really sorry, Bjorn."

"Yes, but that doesn't really change anything does it." He snapped. Bjorn almost regretted his words when he saw the pained look on Hermione's face, but he pushed it aside. She was the one who broke up with him after all. "I have to go."

"Bjorn!" Hermione took hold of his arm to stop him from leaving the study room. "We have to talk about this."

Bjorn wrapped his fingers around hers and gently pried them free of his arm. "There's nothing left to talk about."

Hermione watched sadly as the blond haired boy walked from the room without looking back at her, head bowed, shoulders hunched up around his ears. She knew she had to do it but she couldn't help but feel immense guilt. It wasn't his fault after all, it was hers. She sank dejectedly onto the nearest chair. Everything was her fault.

Despite her immense guilt, however, she couldn't help but feel a sense of acute relief. She realized now that she had been wondering around completely lost for five months and the admittance of her feelings and the acceptance of her guilt in the matter acted as a grounder. She had direction now. She knew what she had to do it. And now it was time to decide on a course of action. She had to tell Ron how she felt and she had to do it as soon as possible.

It took Ester two hours after talking with Hermione to find Bjorn. He was sitting alone in one of the spare class rooms on the fourth floor, arms crossed on the desk, head buried in the crook of his arm. When she first arrived she thought he might be sleeping but when she took a step into the room one of the floor boards squeaked loudly underfoot causing him to jump with surprise.

He rubbed his eyes with his hands trying to relieve some of the soreness that lingered there. "What are you doing here?" He asked grumpily when he realized who it was.

"I thought you might need someone to talk to." Ester stepped further into the room.

"You thought wrong." He said numbly. "Just leave me alone."

Ester tilted her head to the side and her eyes scrunched slightly in concentration.

"Stop that." He growled through his clenched teeth. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I hate it when you do that."

Ester's head snapped up with surprise. "What?"

"I hate it when you try and read me like that."

Ester took a seat on the bench beside him. "I'm only trying to help." She said meekly.

Bjorn's hand slapped down on the solid surface with a loud thud. "Like you tried to help last night?"

Ester sighed heavily. "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted, I really am. But she's not the one for you, Bjorn, and I couldn't consciously advocate for you when I knew in the end it would only cause more pain. It's my duty..."

"Gods," Bjorn shoved his chair back angrily, toppling it over behind him as he rose to his feet. "You think you know everything don't you?" He whirled around to face her, his hurt and resentment manifesting itself in the form of anger. "You're always handing out your pearls of wisdom. Telling us what you think we need to know. Helping _guide_ us down our _true_ paths. But do you want to know what you're problem is? You focus too much on the path and ignore all the finer points like emotions and feelings. Maybe Hermione and I aren't meant to be together. I don't know. What I do know is that I liked her and I asked _you _as a friend to help me."

"I don't know about emotions and feelings?" Ester's voice cracked with outraged tears. "You don't know what you're talking about. I am forced to push my feelings aside all the time because of my _gift._ It's not as easy as you seem to think it is."

"Well screw your gift then." He roared. "And screw what you think is your calling."

Ester bound to her feet. "I can't do that." She articulated every word heavily. "You know that."

"Yeah I know." He let his eyes wonder over her a brief moment before turning away, shaking his head. "You're calling always comes first."

"Bjorn," Ester reached out a hand and gently laid it on his arm only to have him pull angrily away. "I came here to talk to you. To make you feel better."

"You're doing a fantastic job of it, really. Keep going."

Ester's fists clenched at her side. "Fine. If you're going to be like this I'm going to leave. It's not my fault, you know." Ester turned to go but stopped and turned back with another thought. "And you shouldn't be angry at Hermione either. She's only doing what she thinks is right." She turned and marched towards the door, calling back over her shoulder. "When you've decided you've had enough with being a moody ass, come and find us. You know where we'll be."

Ron was watching the Huffelpuff chaser work her way steadily down the pitch, swerving to the right to dodge the bluddger Jack Sloper sent soaring her way. She recovered quickly and was once again speeding down the pitch towards the Gryffindor hoops. Ron watched eyes narrowed as she swerved to the left and sent the quaffle rapidly towards the far goal post. He practically dove of his broom lunging for it but thankfully caught it at the very tip of his fingers a split second before it passed through the hoop. Smirking to himself he tossed the scarlet ball to Ginny who tore off down the pitch at full speed as Ron righted himself.

When the qualffle was safely on the other end of the pitch Ron took a chance to glance at Harry who was soaring high overhead, the Hufflepuff chaser tailing him closely. The Gryffindor team had a commanding lead. Ron had only missed one save the entire game and that was due to the fact that he had been blindsided by a bluddger seconds before one of the Hufflepuff chasers had thrown the ball at the rings.

The score was currently Gryffindor 190, Hufflepuff 10. Make that 200 as Ginny had just made a brilliant play flying full speed at the other keeper and pulling her broom to a sudden halt just short of colliding with him. Ginny took advantage of the keeper's stunned terror and chucked the ball through the hoop right over his shoulder.

There was an uproar of cheers from the scarlet clad section of the stands issuing so loudly it was almost defining. Ron let out his own whoop of praise as the quaffle was retrieved and play was resumed. So intent was he on following the bright ball that it took the sound of utter pandemonium from the crowd for him to notice that Harry had gone into a steep downward dive, the Hufflepuff following futilely behind, as his Cleansweep was no match for Harry's speed and agility on top his Firebolt.

The snitch was hovering just above the ground, fluttering back and forth in a random pattern. Harry took on a sudden burst of speed and before Ron realized was happening, he was closing his fist around the small golden ball. He pulled up with a sudden jerk and held his right hand up in the air, the Snitch's silver wings fluttering between his fingers, sunlight bouncing off them.

The stands burst into a riot of cheers as Gryffindor's supporters began flooding the field. Their victory today almost guaranteed Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup and Ron and Harry's housemates were ready to celebrate.

Lavender Brown had been one of the first fans on the field and had been at Ron's side almost as soon as he touched ground. Moving quickly she slipped her arm through his and tugged him off to Gryffindor Tower where some students, pre-empting a Gryffindor triumph, had already decorated it for a victory party.

Red and gold streamers hung from the ceiling and off the back of the furniture. Two tables in the corner were groaning with their load of sweets and butterbeer, ready for student consumption. Music blared from an enchanted stereo suspended high above the crowd and Colin Creevy was already flitting about snapping pictures of people as they came into the common room.

As soon as they reached Gryffindor Tower Lavender had forced Ron into a sofa in the corner where the light wasn't the best. Ron sighed as he felt Lavender's hand settle on his thigh. She was obviously feeling bold tonight.

When Harry reached the common room the party was well under way. He made a quick scan of the room and spotted Ginny sitting in front of the fire, surrounded by her fellow fifth years, and Ron tucked away in a dark corner with Lavender. He shook his head sadly. He didn't understand that at all. How Ron could stand Lavender's incessant prattle was beyond him. She was nice enough of course, but was rather frivolous and vain in his opinion. An opinion Ron had seemed to share until quite recently. If Harry knew his friend at all, which of course he did, his taste geared toward more sensible girls. If something was going on between Ron and Lavender, which Harry doubted there was, Ron would have told him otherwise, it wouldn't last very long.

Harry turned away from the sight of his friend and moved towards the boy's dormitory steps. He was feeling hot and sweaty and entirely uncomfortable in his Quidditch robes and decided that his first order of business was taking a hot shower, followed by a change into clean robes, and then joining the rest of his housemates in their revelry.

Twenty minutes later Harry was towelling his hair dry as he came back into his dorm. He chose a pair of grey trousers and a forest green jumper to wear to the party and was just pulling on his robes when he noticed a soft glow from his bedside table. It was the mirror.

Harry pulled on his robes before he settled on the mattress, taking the mirror in hand. He tapped it with his wand and the white glow melted into a view of Hermione's room. She was sitting at the foot of her bed a book open in her lap, a finger wrapping a curl around in lazy circles. She took the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and Harry had to smile at the familiar image of his friend.

"Hermione!" Harry called out gently, not wanting to startle her.

Hermione looked up and towards the mirror. "Finally." She exclaimed tossing the book carelessly aside. She threw her legs over the side of her bed and hurried towards her desk where her mirror was propped up. "I've been waiting over two hours for you."

"Sorry." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "We had a match today, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff."

Hermione smiled cheekily. "Should I even ask how the game went?"

Harry grinned proudly back. "Slaughtered them. 350 to 10.

"350 to 10!" Hermione gasped unbelievingly. "But how?"

"Well, Ginny herself scored about half of our twenty goals. And I caught the snitch."

"But Ron only let one goal in?" Hermione prompted eagerly.

Harry's eyes widened with surprise. "Yeah. And he wouldn't even have let that one in if he hadn't been hit by a bluddger seconds before the chaser threw the quaffle."

"Wait! Ron got hit by a bluddger?" Hermione's eyes widened with concern. "Is he alright?"

Harry leaned back against the headboard. "That's the second time you've asked about Ron in under a minute." He stared at her disbelieving. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Harry." Hermione growled with ill humour. "Now tell me, is he alright?" She asked insistently.

"He's fine. He's downstairs at the party right now." Harry watched with curiosity as Hermione's face relaxed before his eyes.

"Harry," Hermione asked after several seconds with her head bowed. "I was wondering if I could possibly speak to Ron?"

Harry stiffened tensely, his eyes narrowing with apprehension. "What for?"

Hermione's cheeks tinted pink. "Please Harry. I need to talk to him now. I want… No, I _need_ to make things right between us. Could I please talk to him?" She pleaded.

Harry seemed to contemplate the idea for several minutes before nodding his head, albeit reluctantly. "I guess. But don't be surprised if he doesn't want to talk to you."

Hermione nodded that she understood before Harry rose to his feet letting his hand holding the mirror drop down to his side, not bothering to tap it and remove the image while he walked, even though Hermione had scolded him on several occasions for doing just that.

Feeling slightly nauseated from having watched Harry's decent from his dorm to the common room, the image in the mirror turned upside down and bouncing from side to side as he walked, Hermione had to cover her eyes until she heard the muffled sound of the joyful festivities. The noise was so immense that when it came through the mirror it filled her room with deafening force.

Harry turned in a slow circle as he tried to remember where he had last seen his red headed friend. There, he spotted him, sitting in the corner with Lavender Brown. Harry began nudging his way though the crowd towards them using his hands to wedge his way through the masses.

Through the mirror Hermione saw a flash of bright copper hair as Harry moved the mirror to make a pathway for himself and her heart leapt to her throat, a strange mixture of joy and dread chocking her of her breath. The mirror shifted again and she had a clear view of him.

For a painful moment her heart stilled in her chest as she watched Lavender Brown inch her hand up his thigh. Ron snatched it up quickly, taking a firm hold of it in his. Hermione couldn't hear what was being said but Lavender seemed extremely happy and seemed to cry out, "Oh Ron!" as she threw her arms around his neck. Hermione watched, heart twisting painfully in her chest as Lavender leaned into Ron's tall fit body and kissed him passionately on the lips.

The mirror shifted again and she lost sight of them and so did not see the way that after a moment of shock Ron dug his fingers under Lavender's arms and pried them from around his neck, and flung them away.

"What do you think you're doing?" He bound to his feet, glaring angrily down at her as he rubbed viciously at his mouth. "What are you? A a…scarlet woman? You don't just jump on a bloke like that."

Lavender started up at him in startled surprise.

"Um… Ron?" Hermione broke out of her despaired daze as she heard Harry call tentatively to his friend over the sound of the crowd. Ron spun away from Lavender and towards Harry, eyes still blazing. "What? I'm busy?"

Harry held up the mirror awkwardly. "Hermione wants to talk to you."

Ron snatched the pane of glass quickly from his friend's hands "What?" He asked moodily.

Hermione gapped at him uselessly as tears leaked noiselessly from her eyes.

"What do you want?" He roared, whirling around when Lavender placed a hand on the small of his back.

"Nothing." Hermione squeaked before fumbling to tap the mirror with the tip of her wand ending their connection.

Ron who had been looking daggers at Lavender turned back to the mirror at the sound of Hermione's voice only to see her image fade from the glass. "Hermione?" He called shaking the pane as if her image would reappear if he did so. "Hermione!" He bellowed but the glass stayed stubbornly blank and bright. "Harry?" Ron turned back to his friend "What was that about?"

Harry took the mirror back and tapped it with his wand. "That was Hermione calling because she wanted to talk and mend things between you two."

Ron stared stunned at Harry for a minute before he spun around on his heal to glare at Lavender, his eyes blazing a fierce shade of blue. Lavender stumbled back in initial surprise. "Thank you so much, Lavender. You've been an immense help."

"What did_ I_ do?" she cried defensively, finding her wits finally and planting her hands on her hips in what she thought was a commanding pose.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Did it ever occur to you that I may not be interested in you like that?"

Lavender jutted out her chin in defiance. "Then exactly who _are _you interested in like that then?" She demanded.

"That's really none of your business is it?" He said scowling at her.

Lavender's nose scrunched tight as she stared at him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. A look of pure comprehension took over her face a split second before she whistled low. "She really did a number on you didn't she?"

"I don't know what you mean." Ron objected stubbornly.

"Granger!" Lavender cried shrilly.

"What has Hermione to do with _you _being a scarlet woman?"

"A scarlet woman?" Lavender asked incredulously.

Ron rolled his eyes with annoyance as he crossed his arms stubbornly across his broad chest. "Just answer the question."

Lavender shook her head with disbelief and disappointment. "She's ruined you for the rest of us." she said angrily, jabbing him in the chest.

Ron's eyes narrowed to slivers. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Look at you." She cried, flinging out a hand. "She's all the way in Bulgaria having a good time with a bloody other bloke and here you are still completely devoted to her. I mean it's almost as if…" she stopped. Her hazel eyes widened with sudden understanding "…you're in love with her. You are, aren't you?" Her face softened as she saw the look of pain that came over his features for a spare moment before disappearing again behind the mask he had been wearing for weeks. "I always knew you fancied her…but…"

"But what?"

"But nothing. What happened?"

Ron straightened to his full height, his body as stiff as a board. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ron," She placed a coaxing hand on his arm. "You can tell me."

"Lavender." He snapped, wrenching his arm away. "Drop it. I don't want to talk about her, especially not with you." And with that he stomped up to his dormitory, slamming the door behind him, ignoring the sound of merriment going on several floors below as his team celebrated on without him.


	18. The Letters

Chapter 18: The Letters

Hermione gasped a shuttering breath, her shoulders shaking with tears as she eased open the lid of her trunk. She rummaged though layers of neatly folded cloaks and stacked books until she found what she was looking for. Giving a great pull from the depths of the trunk, the red and gold coloured package came free.

Hermione closed the lid as she rose to her feet. Holding the box gingerly in her hands she walked to the bed and sank down near the headboard. Swinging her feet up she leaned back against the heavy wood and hugged the box tight to her chest. Ron and Lavender? Her heart ached as the moment when Lavender threw her arms around Ron's neck and kissed him played over and over in her head like a broken real.

Sucking in her bottom lip, Hermione gnawed on it as she debated weather or not she really wanted to open the box. She ran her fingers lovingly over the foil wrapping. She was terrified of what she might find inside.

Although she knew that what ever was in the box would probably add to her torment, she couldn't help but feel curious as to what was inside. It was evident that Ron had taken time and effort to wrap the box. The cuts in the paper were precise and the golden bow was perfect. Calling upon every ounce of courage she had she slipped first the golden ribbon off the end and set it down neatly at her hip. Next she slid her finger under the fold in the foil paper and tenderly slit open the spello-tape seal.

When the paper was gone Hermione set the box on the bed and stared at it with interest. It was sealed seamlessly with no trace of where the lid had once been. It was perfect and she couldn't help but feel pride that her Ron had accomplished it.

Hermione wiped away the last of her tears as she searched for her wand, finding it on the floor where it had dropped from her hands. Giving her wand a wave and the proper counter spell, a lid formed at the top of the box. Setting her wand aside she slipped her fingers just underneath the lid. Preparing herself for the worst she slid off the cover.

Sitting at the very top of the box was a folded piece of parchment that had her name scribed on it in Ron's messy hand. She lifted the makeshift card out of the box and as she did a wizard picture fell from between the folds to land in her lap. She looked down to see her smiling face blinking up at her from over Ron's shoulder. They were both laughing as Ron in the picture spun around and around. She had never seen the picture before and wondered where Ron had gotten it. It was evident however that he had looked at it often. The picture had a warn look to it, the edges frayed and torn and yet it also had the charm of being one of those few well loved pictures. Finally looking away from the photo Hermione flipped open the card the picture had slipped out of and read;

_Happy Christmas Mione. In this box is your present. I know it isn't much, but it's full of things I have collected over the years. Things that have always meant a great deal to me. You'll find explanations for anything I thought you might not understand. For instance, the picture you know hold in your hand. Harry took it last year before that night at the Ministry. Remember? I know you don't hold much store by your looks, but in that picture I hope you can see at least a little of the beauty I see when I look at you everyday. Happy Christmas, Your Ron._

Hermione stared at the card a moment longer before she set in gently aside and took the next item from the box. It was the day planner she had given him several Christmases ago. It was in perfect condition with not a blemish of ink or a single tear or a page folded out of place. Every item in the box was of similar nature. It seemed Ron had kept every note she had written him as well as every letter and every gift, each one perfectly preserved.

A steady stream of tears was slipping down her cheeks by the time she reached the bottom where she found, wrapped tightly in a neat bundle, every owl that she had sent back to him unopened from the past year.

She stared at the stack of letters, heart twisting painfully in her chest. Here was the physical proof of her stupidity. If she had answered one, just one of these letters Ron wouldn't have given up on her and he wouldn't be… Hermione closed her eyes on the painful thought…he wouldn't be with Lavender Brown.

Unsure if she was being wise she untied the bundle and removed the first letter resting patiently on the very top of the stack. She slid her finger under the seal, breaking the dried wax, and turned the parchment over to read what Ron had written.

_Dear Hermione,_

The letter began,

_I am so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I couldn't sleep last nigh because of it. I just lay in my bed and replayed our fight from yesterday over and over in my head. I don't know what happened. How could we have let things get that far? All I know is I didn't mean what I said. You believe me, don't you Hermione? I couldn't bear it if you didn't. Please forgive me. I don't know what I would do if I lost your friendship. Yours, Ron._

And the letter after that read,

_Dear Hermione,_

_Pig came back today with my owl unopened. I guess I deserved that. I really am a ruddy git aren't I? But I really am sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that. Please Hermione. Do you think you could possibly find it in yourself to forgive me? Looking forward to your owl, Ron._

A few letters later she came across the one that must have been from September first, the night of the opening feast.

_YOU'RE IN BULGARIA! _He wrote fiercely._ HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? Do you know what it was like for me today? I couldn't wait to see you. I convinced myself that the reason why you hadn't answered any of my letters was because you were waiting to talk to me in person. Then I get here and I have to learn from Dumbledore at the same time as the rest of the school that you have left. Why didn't I get a letter too, Hermione? You were able to find the time to write to Harry and Ginny, why not to me?_

_Please Hermione. **Please** write to me. We have to end this. I miss you. Yours for always, Ron_

_Please Mione, I can't take this anymore. Why won't you answer my letters? Don't you think this has gone on long enough? I miss you Mione. I haven't talked to you in nearly two months. Things just aren't the same without you. There's no one here to tell me when I'm git, or when I'm doing something wrong. Please, I am so desperately sorry for what happened. You have no idea how sorry. I'll ask you again, if you can find it in within your heart to forgive me. Please, please write. I need to hear from you again._

_I think you would be proud of me, Mione. I've been getting full marks on almost all of my work, even potions. I know I told you that last week, but since that letter came back…I…I thought I would try again. Well anyway, I really hope to hear from you soon, Ron_

_Mione,_

_The Halloween feast was last night. Everything was brilliant. The food was as good as ever, they had all my favourite dishes, and for a short time I was able to not think about you and just enjoy myself._

_I heard tell that at Durmstrang they have a ball for Halloween. I hope that you were able to find someone to go with. I'd hate to think that **you'd **have to suffer through a ball or feast alone. Maybe some Bulgarian bloke who will pull out chairs and open doors for you._

_Have you forgiven me yet Mione? This silence is killing me. I hate not knowing what is going on in your life, who your friends, what stupid facts your reading about in books. I miss having information forced in my head by you. For instance, did you know that according to _Hogwarts: A History_ it is impossible to appearate or disapperate inside the castle grounds? _

_Please Mione. Please, please, please find it in your heart to forgive me. Every day I feel your absence like an empty belly. Anxiously awaiting your reply. Love, Ron_

And the letters continued like that. Each one apologizing, each one asking for her forgiveness and each one becoming more desolate when he didn't receive a response. And probably most surprising, each one written from one friend to another with Ron writing what had happened that day to him and the others that she knew, keeping her well informed on what was going on in his life. Almost as if his feelings for her had never changed, never wavered. It was gut wrenching to read.

Finally she reached the last letter in the stack and as she opened it realized that it was much thicker then all the others. She pulled out several leafs of parchment, unfolded them with one hand as she whipped desperately at her leaking eyes with the other finding it nearly impossible to see other wise. Bowing her head she began to read;

_My Dearest Mione,_

_Happy Christmas. There is so much I wish to tell you, and so much that I haven't said that I wish had. And I find this letter hard to write. I'm not very good with words and feelings, but you already knew that. It was you after all who told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon. But as bad as I am with these two things, I have to do it. You see, I have to say goodbye. Because continuing to live like this is no longer an option. I have no will left to fight. And so I have to say goodbye or I don't think I ever will be able to._

_You see Mione, I'm in love with you. I think I have been since the first time you came charging into Harry and my train car and demanded to know if we had seen a toad. You were as stunning then as you are now with your warm chocolate brown eyes and unruly hair. I've always loved your hair. Did you know that? I loved how you are the kind of person who has to keep everything in your life neat and orderly, everything except for your hair. How I've always longed to run my fingers through it. There were several times I think you almost caught me staring at you in class while I was imagining what it would be like._

_I know I'm rambling, but I have to get everything said, even if you never read this. You see, how else am I suppose to get over my one and only?_

_Blimey, I can't believe I actually wrote that. If I thought for one moment that you were going to read this I might be worried that… as it is I should probably explain exactly what I mean._

_In my family we believe in the One and Only. For generations Weasleys have been falling in love with one person and one person alone. Their 'One and Only'. For as long as we live we love once and we love completely. Most of us find the **one** at a young age. Though there are exceptions. Bill and Charlie, for an example, met their one and onlys later in life. Bill only recently found Fleur, there are rumours they will be marrying soon, and Charlie who technically did meet Sarah at Hogwarts but didn't realize it because she was a few years younger so he never really noticed her until she arrived in Romania to work at the Dragon camp with him. But if you look at the rest of us, we meet our one when we are young. My Great Grandparents Minnie and Henry met while at school, as did my Grandmum and Grandpop Weasley, mum and dad. Fred and George found there's at school, though they're still trying to deny it. Bloody idiots. They're mad for Katie and Angelina but aren't ready to give up their bachelor hood. I know Ginny thinks she's found her one and only, but for her sake I hope she's wrong. As for me, I really didn't understand what that meant until a few months ago when I lost my own. Or at least I think I did. I guess I'll never really know, will I?_

_I was a fool Mione. I should have told you long ago how I felt. It would have saved us so much pain. But I was scared. Because the truth is that I was never good enough for you. You are so beautiful, talented and smart. And what am I? I'm nothing. You deserve the world. You deserve someone like Victor Krum or Bjorn Ivailo. Blokes rich enough and classy enough to provide you with a life of leisure that you can devote to your books. I could never give that to you. I've known this for a long time and I've tried, I really have, not to fall in love with you. But how could I not?_

_But as I said, I have come to the realization that none of this really matters anymore. Even if I ever had the chance with you, I've lost it now. So I have to learn to let you go. I use to think that I was living up to my Gryffindor name by continuing to fight for you. That it was the brave and courageous thing to do. But I know now that it is far braver of me to try and live my life without you. Something I never thought I would have to do._

_Honestly, it terrifies me to think that we'll never again do homework together, or that when you come to Quidditch matches you will only be cheering on Ginny and Harry, and not me. I hate the fact that the three of us will never go on another of our adventures. And Merlin help me, I'm even going to miss our fights._

_Which brings us to another stupid act on my part. I use to pick fights with you deliberately. Did you know that? You're such an amazing witch, so bright and caring and focused. But when you get your mind on something you devote all you attention on it. And I wanted it on me, and I didn't care how I got. So I fought with you. And over time I did it because the fire and passion you showed when fighting was so beautiful I longed to see it. I guess it could be considered selfish, but I wanted the same devotion and one mindedness focused on me that you focused on S.P.E.W. A bit of irony isn't it? All this time I've been trying everything I could think of to get you to notice me and instead I drive you away._

_Well, that's all that I really wanted to say, except…I'll never stop loving you, Mione. I'll love you from now until forever. I'll try to move on as you have done, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you and if ever you find it in your heart to forgive me I'll be waiting._

_Goodbye my one and only. With all my love, Ronald Bilius Weasley_

"Bilius." Hermione laughed with torment as she curled into a tight ball, her knees tucked up under her chin. Ron's middle name was Bilius. After five years of trying to worm it out of him, which was a more difficult task then it sounded, not even Ginny would tell for fear of Ron's wrath, he had finally confided it in her, as well as everything else in his heart.

She had had no idea. All this time she had thought Ron to be unemotional and thick and here she discovered that his emotions went far deeper then she could have imagined and he was really far more observant then she ever would have believed and put quiet a lot of thought into everything. She had heard Ginny speak of her One and Only many times of course, but had never realized that the rest of her family believed in it as well, let alone that Ron did.

She clutched his letter to her chest as guilt washed over her in angry waves. Harry was right. She never should have left without fixing things with Ron. Everything she had done since the beginning of summer holiday had been a mistake. Fighting with him, calling him those awful names, she understood now why Ron had called her what he did. How could she have been so callous as to call him a weasel and a pauper? She should never have run away, or try and convince herself that she was over him. Because of her actions she had lost the boy she had always wanted.

"Hermione." There was a gentle though persistent knock at her door. "Hermione, open up."

The heart broken girl pinched her eyes shut as she rolled away from the door. "Go away, Ester." Her voice croaked as her throat was soar from several hours worth of crying.

"Hermione!" her friend pounded more persistently at the door. "Open up. You've been in here for hours and you haven't gone to a meal since breakfast. What happened?"

"Leave me alone!" she cried at the door. Burying her head under her pillow she tried to wait out Ester's relentless pounding but found it to now avail. When she could not stand the unrelenting pulse a moment longer she flung the pillow off, threw her legs over the side of her bed and rushed at the door, throwing it open to reveal a face marred tear stains and blotchy skin. "What do you want?"

Ester lowered her hand slowly until it hung at her side. "Hermione, why have you been crying?"

Chin quivering Hermione spun around and strode back into the room leaving the door open for Ester to follow. The Bulgarian girl walked hesitantly into the room, closing the door behind her before setting a plate of food she was carrying on the table Hermione had placed near the door.

Hermione had settled in her desk chair, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle as she watched her friend stroll towards her bed. Ester stopped at the end and took in everything that was scattered across the duvet. She saw the red foil wrapping on the floor, the open box on the edge of the mattress, and the many gifts and parchment resting in a semicircle around the area where Hermione had sat. Ester lifted the note and picture that Hermione had read first to eye level. She read it quickly before studying the picture closely. "This really is a charming photo." She sat primly on the end of Hermione's bed, still studying the snapshot. "I can see why you love him." She glanced at Hermione over the picture. "He makes you happy."

Hermione blinked her lids rapidly as fresh tears swelled behind her eyes. She lowered her head as tears leaked from her eyes. "If you can so obviously see that, why couldn't I?"

Ester ignored her question and set the picture down. She scooped up a stack of parchment and started rifling through it. "Why did you open it now?"

Hermione sucked in her bottom lip, gnawing on it with her teeth. Taking a shuttering breath she groaned. "I saw him kissing another girl."

Ester's head snapped up in surprise. "You did?"

Hermione nodded brokenly as she picked up the mirror. "I saw it in this. I was going to tell him…but then I…I saw him kiss Lavender, and…I should have known I couldn't force myself to get over Ron Weasley." She bound to her feet and began restlessly pacing, arms still wrapped around her middle. "Damn that boy. Why? Why!" She flung her arms out as she spun around to face her friend. "Why do I have to be in love with such an insufferable…I can't even find the right word to call him."

Ester set down the parchment so that she could give Hermione her full attention. "So what are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" Hermione groaned. "He's moved on."

"So did you." Ester pointed out. "And look where that got you."

"Ester," Hermione picked up the sheaves of parchment Ester had set down and took their place. She handed them back over and instructed her friend to read them. By the time Ester reached the last page her eyes were wide and slightly misty.

"You see?" Hermione asked, taking the letter back. "He's moved on. It's over."

"What do you mean it's over?" Ester snatched the letter back. "Didn't you read the last paragraph?"

"Of course I did." Hermione stiffened as her friend continued to glare at her, affronted that her friend would think that her reading abilities were less then accurate.

"Well maybe you need to listen to it this time." Ester flipped to the last page and lifted the parchment before her eyes so that she could read it proper.

'_Well, that's all that I really wanted to say, except…**I'll never stop loving you**, Mione. I'll **love** **you** **from now until forever**. I'll **try** to move on as you have done, but I want you to know that **I will always be here for you** and if ever you find it in your heart to forgive me I'll be waiting._

_Goodbye my **one and only. With all my love**, Ronald Bilius Weasley'_

Ester closed the letter smartly and held it in the air as she turned to face Hermione. "This does not sound like a letter written by someone who's gotten over you." She waved the parchment for emphasis. "In fact I'm farley positive he's madly in love with you. You don't get over love that quickly. You should know as well as I do. You've been trying to do it since you got here and it hasn't worked. He's been trying since what, Christmas? I don't think he would have succeeded that fast."

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "So what am I suppose to do? I'm here and he's there. I tried talking to him through the mirror and he nearly bit my head off. He's not exactly thrilled to hear from me. And I'm fairly certain that if I write a letter to him he'll send it back unopened. And serve me right if he did."

Ester tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips in thought while Hermione squirmed under her penetrating stare. Finally the Bulgarian girl nodded her head and rose to her feet, extending her hand to Hermione. "Then I guess there's only one thing left to do."

Hermione stared questioningly from her friend's proffered hand to her face. "What?" she asked skeptically.

"You have to go to him." Ester said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hermione let out a sound of disbelief. "I can't just go to him. In case you haven't noticed, Bulgaria" she held up one hand "England." She held up the other. "Not exactly right next door. The only way to get there is by portkey and I doubt Zograf would make me one for something as frivolous as my love life."

Ester rolled her eyes. "Did you honestly think I was going to go to Zograf with this? Hermione, have you forgotten who you're friends with?"

"No." Hermione stared at her with bewilderment.

"Well obviously you have." Ester took hold of Hermione's hand and tugged her to her feet. "Now the first thing we have to do is find Bjorn."

"What?" Hermione snatched her hand away causing Ester to look back at her in surprise. "I can't go talk to Bjorn."

"Hermione," Ester took her friend's face firmly between her hands and forced her to look at her in the eyes. "Bjorn knows how to make portkeys."

"What?" Hermione gasped.

Ester sighed as she released Hermione's face. "You know that we as a group have this horrible tendency to learn spells and potions and other types of magic that we are not supposed to know." Hermione nodded. "It goes a bit farther then that I'm afraid. We all have something big besides. Yorick learned how to disapperate by fourth year. Maj can do Legilmency and Occumlemancy, though she hardly ever uses it. Her parent's used it on her all the time when she was younger so she learned how to do it to them. But you see she hated the intrusion so she refuses to do it on anyone besides her parents. Thora is the potion maker of the group. She's always on the look out for knew and exciting potions to brew. And Bjorn can do portkeys. He's really very good at them."

"But only fully trained wizards can make portkeys and everyone has to be authorized."

Ester rolled her eyes. "Hermione, this is Bulgaria. Things like portkey manufacturing and authorization or not nearly as closely watched here as they are in England. Here, anyone can make a portkey once they've been licensed. That way entire families can travel by portkey and it's much quicker and easier."

"And Bjorn's been licensed?"

"Well no, but…" Ester leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "no one really expects anyone inside the school to be able to do it. So they don't monitor it. We used to go on little excursions all the time. We made a trip to Germany once for the day. And we never got caught. So, if you really need to get back to England to talk to Ron, then he's one to talk to."

"But Ester, Bjorn's furious with me. What do you think the chances are that he is going to help me when I jut broke up with him? Especially considering what I need him for is to help me get back to England so that I can talk to another boy?"

"Leave Bjorn to me." Ester said with more confidence then Hermione deemed acceptable. "What you should be worrying about is what you're going to say to Ron when you see him."


	19. Still Friends

Chapter 19: Still Friends

Ron hadn't touched his assignments since Thursday evening, his anxiety and focus for the upcoming Quidditch match pushing thoughts of it and everything else out of his mind on Friday night. Then on Saturday after the excitement of wining the match and his anger at Lavender Brown combined with curiosity of why Hermione had broken the connection as soon as she saw him, he hadn't been able to think let alone concentrate long enough on Saturday to finish his assignments.

So now here he was, Sunday evening, sitting with Rane at their usual table, aware of the fact that Lavender was watching the two of them closely, and unable to concentrate once again because Rane was sitting so near.

Shaking his head slightly Ron looked down at the half filled parchment before rubbing his eyes. What was he supposed to be writing about again? He looked to the title and his brain clicked back into gear. He was writing about the Patronous Charm. He ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. This shouldn't be such a difficult assignment to complete. He had known about the charm since third year and Harry had taught it to them last year.

Ron dipped his quill into the ink and was just reading what he had last written when from the corner of his eye he saw that Rane had set her hand on the table precariously close to his. Ron stared at her hand for several seconds feeling the ever mounting need to reach out and take hold of it. He glanced up at Rane's concentrating face then down at her hand several times before finally coming to a decision.

He lifted his hand from where it rested on the table and moved it to hover over her fingers. His hand was just beginning to descend when there was a tapping at the window to Rane's right. She jumped with surprise moving her hand just before Ron's touched hers. Her head snapped to the window where there was a large bird perched on the window sill. Rane rose curiously to her feet as she examined the bird. "That's a Durmstrang Owl."

She unlatched the window, opening it wide as the bird took flight, swooping in and landing in front of Ron. Ignoring the owl, assuming that it was for Rane, he went back to his assignment, scribbling the first coherent thought he had. But when Rane tried to reach for the envelope the bird snapped angrily at her fingers. Eyes scrunched with curiosity she bent her head closer to look at the name inscribed on the missive.

"Ron." She straightened from her bowing position so that she could sink into the seat. "It's for you."

Ron looked up from his parchment, his face a mask of confusion. "What?"

"The letter." She pointed towards the large tawny bird. "It's for you."

Ron leaned forward to read his name written on the envelope, recognizing the handwriting instantly, before slinking back in the chair, arms crossed, his good mood rapidly disappearing. He sneered at the bird and said in a mutinous voice, "I should send it back unopened and see how she likes it."

Rane's mouth dropped with surprise. "Ronald Weasley, you'll do no such thing."

Ron stared irritably at the bird a minute, refusing to look over at Rane, before sighing heavily. "I know." Drawing out every movement for as long as he could, he leaned forward and untied the letter. As soon as it was free of its burden, the large owl swooped up and out of the open window. Rane stood to close it behind the bird while Ron slit open the seal and began to read. Rane gave the window a strong push and threw the latch back into place. Brushing her hands she turned around to ask Ron what it said but froze in shock. The seat Ron had been sitting in moments ago was empty. She looked around the room for sign of the tall red head but he was no where in sight. Ron was gone.

Panic ceased his heart as he spun and tumbled through the air, fingers glued magically to the slip of parchment. His mind raced with thoughts of horror, images of grave yards, Death Eaters, and killing curses filled his brain.

Suddenly the world stopped turning and his body hurtled downwards, but instead of making contact with hard floor he bounced lightly onto a soft surface.

"Excellent." Came a satisfied voice. "It worked." Ron tried to push himself up from his position lying flat on his stomach, but the soft fabric underneath him moved causing him to slip and land on his face once again. "I was a trifle worried that it wouldn't work." Continued the growingly more familiar voice. "Or that you wouldn't read the letter. But here you are."

Ron finally managed to flip over to a sitting position and found that he was in a bedroom, a girl's bedroom by the looks of it, and he was lying sprawled on a very soft bed with silky yellow covers.

"Wha…what's going on?" He looked around his heart still racing with panic, unsure of where he was or how exactly he had gotten there. Finally he saw a figure standing in the shadows near the door, arms crossed in front of its chest.

"Settle down, Ron." The voice commanded as the figure stepped out of the darkness and into the lamp light. Ron's mouth gapped open in surprise. "My parents don't know you're here and would not approve of you being on my bed if they did, so keep quiet."

"Hermione!" Ron scampered off the soft mattress as quickly as he could and pressed himself up against the nearest wall, Shaking his head with disbelief. "I…I thought you were suppose to be in Bulgaria." Slowly he lowered his right hand to pat his pocket where he stored his wand.

"I am supposed to be in Bulgaria." She said dismissively as she took another step forward.

Ron's heart reared with panic when he realized his wand wasn't in the pocket where he normally carried it, remembering with a start that it was sitting back in the Gryffindor common room on the table where he had been revising with Rane.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asked as he slowly started inching his way along the wall toward the door.

Hermione sighed with exasperation. "For pity sake Ron," she snapped. "I'm not a Death Eater."

Ron ceased his slow movement along the wall. "How do I know that?"

"You're asking for proof?" her voice rang with disbelief.

"Yeah." He straightened, regaining some of his confidence. "I'm asking for proof."

"Your greatest fear is spiders." She said instantly, her right brow arched, her lips spread in a knowing smirk.

"Anyone could figure that one out."

"Yes, but does everyone know that it was because your brother turned your teddy bear into one when you were little?"

Ron's nose twitched in thought. "I suppose that would be a little more difficult to find out." He conceded.

"I also know," Hermione continued, "that your bedroom at the Burrow is on the very top floor, right under the attic and that a ghoul lives above you. And your favorite team is the Chuddley Cannons. You have their posters pinned up all over the walls and ceiling of your room." She took a step closer to him. "I know that Harry and I helped Sirius escape when we were third years, on the back of a hipogryph named Buckbeak. I know that your rat Scabbers was really Peter Pettigrew and that your owl Pigwidgeon, the one that has been trying to deliver letters to me all year, was given to you by Sirius Black because he felt that it was his fault that you lost your pet. Would you like me to keep going?"

Ron slouched away from the wall, the tension leaving his body. "No that's fine." He continued to watch her for several minutes until Hermione squirmed with discomfort. Finally he broke the silence by asking. "Where am I? And how did I get here?"

"You're at my house. This is my bedroom."

Having never stepped further into Hermione's house then her entrance hall, Ron turned in a slow circle taking in every aspect of her room. Even with the dim lighting shed by the one lamp sitting on her bedside table he could still tell that the room was bright and cheerful. The comforter, which he had landed on when he arrived, was a brilliant butter yellow. The head of the bed was pushed up against the wall with a table on one side and a book shelf that nearly reached the ceiling on the other. The shelves were crammed with hundreds of books, all of them worn and well read and obviously loved. The room wasn't very big, just large enough to house a desk, one more bookshelf crammed full of her old school books and awards, and a set of dresser drawers.

Hermione lowered her head as she cast around in her brain for something, anything to break the heavy silence that had settled upon the room as Ron continued to look at her belongings. Curiosity must have gotten the better of him for he was now standing beside her bed switching her lamp on and off with awe evident on his face. "What do you call this?" He finally asked, holding the lit lamp up for Hermione to see.

"It's called a lamp." She pried the object gently from his fingers and set it back where it belonged. "Ron I brought you here to talk."

Ron spun around suddenly to face her. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked with puzzlement.

"Bring me here? One minute I was sitting in the common room revising with Rane…"

"Rane?"

"Yeah, Rane. And then your letter arrives and the next thing I know I'm flying through space and landing here. How did you do that? That wasn't a normal portkey."

"No it wasn't." Hermione sank onto her bed and indicated for Ron to do the same. Instead of taking a seat next to her he moved to the desk chair and sat in it. She felt a slight twinge in her heart when she saw how far away from her he was. "Er…the letter, it was a portkey. For one of my assignments this year we were to write on portkeys and I ran across this obscure form where you can imbedded it in a letter so that only when the intended recipient reads a certain line it will transport them to the desired destination."

Ron's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "That's an excellent bit of magic. How long did it take you to learn that?"

Hermione shrugged dismissively. "A few hours. The hard part was getting the reader to land exactly where I wanted them." She patted the bed, for example. "I thought it would make for a softer landing."

"All right." He nodded. "Now that I know where I am, and how I got here, would you mind telling me what I'm doing here?"

Hermione looked away from him now, unable to stand the steady gaze he pinned her with. She licked her lips nervously, as they had suddenly gone quite dry as did the rest of her throat. She tried to swallow and wet her tongue, but the action seemed useless in her nervousness. "I wanted to apologize." Her eyes wandered slowly up until she was looking once again into his bright blue orbs. "I'm so sorry, Ron. I never should have run away like that, I never should have sent back your letters, and I…" She took a deep breath and swallowed trying to remove the ball that stuck in her throat. "I never should have called you a weasel and a pauper." Tears began to glide down her cheeks as she watched Ron cross his arms stiffly in front of his chest and lean back in his chair.

"I don't know what came over me that day." She continued finding it harder to keep her emotions in check. "Never mind that day. I don't know what came over _me_. You know I don't think you're a weasel or a pauper, don't you Ron?"

"It's all right, Hermione." He leaned forward. "You don't have to apologize."

"Yes I do." She said sternly, daring him to contradict her. "You made one mistake Ron, and I blew it out of proportion. You asked me to forgive you and I wouldn't. And I'm so sorry for that."

"Hermione…"

"Let me finish." She rose to her feet and began pacing a path in front of him. "I need you to understand why I did what I did. You see it wasn't really the name that hurt." She stopped and looked into his eyes. "It was the fact that _you_ called me it." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again. She lowered her eyes humbly when he continued to stare at her. "I was so in love with you…and when I heard you call me a Mudblood I ... I took it as a rejection. And the idea of having to see you everyday, knowing that you didn't want me, was too much."

"Hermione, all you had to do was read one of my letters to know that wasn't true."

"I know." She sank dejectedly back on the bed.

Ron massaged his face with his hands, his eyes never leaving her. "Do you know what it felt like every time Pig came back?"

"No." her voice cracked. "I don't."

"It felt like something inside of me was dying. I don't ever want to feel like that again."

"I don't want you to either."

Ron forced his chin to remain firm, "So you understand why I can't do it again."

Hermione shifted anxiously. "Do what exactly?"

"This." He rose slowly to his feet so that he was looking down on her. "I finally got over you Hermione…I can't go back." Ron saw the tears swell in her eyes and her chin shake as she struggled to hold back her tears. "You have Bjorn now. Don't you"

Hermione shook her head ardently. "I'm not seeing him anymore."

Ron's eyes flared with ire. "So now that you don't have him I'm good enough? Is that it?"

"No!" Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with alarm. "I was the one who ended it with him. It wasn't fair for him. Not while…" she looked away. "…not while I was still in love with you."

Ron shook his head, taking a step away from her. "I'm sorry Hermione. I can't." He shrugged his broad shoulders uncertainly. "I'm happy. And I think there might be someone else."

Hermione rose to her feet with a start. "But you said I was your one and only."

He physically flinched as he turned away from her. "I don't believe in the _One and Only_ anymore." He looked back at her over his shoulder. "And someone as sensible and logical as you shouldn't either."

Hermione felt a sudden wave of incredible loss sweep through her. Had she done this to him? "Is…is this because of Lavender?" she finally asked, wiping furiously at her eyes, trying to erase her tears before he had a chance to see them.

"Lavender?" he snorted. "Bloody hell. What would give you that idea?"

"I thought…" she stammered.

"Actually," he interrupted, taking the few steps to her desk where he picked up a picture sitting there of Harry, him and Hermione. "I had someone else in mind." He studied the photo for several seconds before setting the frame abruptly down. He turned to face her. "I was with her when your letter arrived. So, if you don't mind I would like to go back. She must be worried about where I am."

"Oh…" Hermione chocked out. "Right." She pushed her dark curls out of her face as she looked about. "I'll just…Where is the letter?" Her voice was low and ruff with emotion. She looked over the side of her bed as she explained. "I can use it to send you back."

Joining Hermione in her search, Ron crouched down beside the bed. He found the rumpled piece of parchment far beneath the bed, assuming that it must have slipped there when he landed. He offered it to Hermione who took it quickly, turning away from him, but not quickly enough. Ron saw the torrent of tears slipping swiftly and silently down her face. He stiffened his spine and looked away. He never could stand to see her cry.

"Ron," she turned back to him, handing him the letter after casting the appropriate charm, not looking at his face. "Do you think…" she closed her eyes, "could we still be friends?"

His breath escaped in a long sigh of uncertainty. "That's a lot to ask, Hermione."

"You said you would always love me." She argued. "In your letter you wrote that you would always be here for me and when I was ready to forgive you, you would be waiting."

Ron nodded reluctantly. "I did say that. But…"

"Please, Ron," she pleaded taking hold of his arm. "I've discovered what life is like without having you as a friend… and I don't want that anymore."

Ron set his fingers gently on hers before gently prying them away. "You hurt me, Mione. I can't just forget and be your friend again. It'll take some time before I can trust you."

Hermione stared at him a moment in stunned silence, before chin quivering, she nodded, taking several shaky breaths. "Could I at least write to you? You know, start over?"

Ron stared at her a moment, eyes scrunched in contemplation. Finally he gave his head a reluctant nod. "Let's start over."

She smiled heartbreakingly through her tears. "Thank you." She went to give him a hug but he stepped back out of her reach.

When she looked up at him with a mixture of hurt and puzzlement he held up the letter. "Why don't you tell me how I get back?"

"Right." She swallowed audibly, taking a step back. "Read the last line. It will bring you back to where you came from."

Hermione turned away as Ron unfolded the letter. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out her miniscule handwriting. "I lov..." was all he managed to read aloud when with a whoosh like the wind he was gone, leaving Hermione to gasp with pain as she sank down on her bed, knuckles jammed in her mouth to stifle her sobs.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron cursed as he landed uncomfortably in his chair, banging his elbow on the edge of the solid table.

"Ron!" he looked up to see Rane hurtling across the common room towards him, giving him just enough time to open his arms and catch her when she threw herself at him, causing the chair to wobble on two legs before settling back into place. "I was so worried." She hugged him close. "Thank God you're all right." She pulled away to look at him more closely. "What happened?"

Realizing suddenly how close to him she was Rane scampered off his lap which she had landed in and backed away, tucking her hair behind her ear, a habit Ron noticed she had when ever she grew nervous. "We were so worried about you. Harry and Ginny are out looking for you know. When you disappeared like that we thought…"

The portrait hole slammed open. "Ron!" Harry cried as he hurtled into the room, tucking a piece of worn paper into his pocket as he did. "Are you all right? What happened? Merlin, mate. You scared us half to death. First you disappear, then we receive…"

"That was Hermione's doing."

"What was?"

Ron rose uncomfortably to his feet, his body aching from the uncomfortable landing it had taken. "My vanishing act. She wanted to talk to me alone and coming to the castle was apparently not an option." He rubbed methodically at his sore hip. "I've never received a direct summons before, but I don't imagine it gets much more direct then that."

"Wait, wait, wait." Harry held up a single hand. "Hermione summoned you from the castle?" Ron nodded. "To where?"

"Her house."

Harry's eyes widened. "Hermione's in England. What is she doing back?"

"I just told you. She needed to speak with me. Harry calm down." Ron ordered when his friend began to pace anxiously. "What has gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" Harry took the few steps it took to be standing directly in front of Ron. "This is what has gotten into me." Harry reached around Ron to pull a news paper off the table and thrust it into his friend's hands.

Ron flipped open _The Evening Prophet _to reveal the pictures of Lucius Malfoy, and the other Death Eater's from the Ministry of Magic break in, sneering up at him. Above the row of portraits in big blazzen letters were the words.

**Known Death Eaters at Large.**

**Second Mass Breakout in Azkaban History.**

Ron looked up with a start. "Malfoy's out?"

Harry took back the paper. "Malfoy's out. When you disappeared like that we thought the Death Eaters got you."

"Shite!" Ron swore, thrusting his fingers through his disheveled hair. "How did the Ministry let this happen?"

"I don't know, but that's not the worst of it."

Ron glared at Harry skeptically. "How could it get worse?"

"Draco, Crabe, Goyle and Parkinson are all missing as well."

"Wonderful," Ron slumped in his chair. "Just what I needed right now. More things to worry about."

"Why?" Harry took the seat that had belonged to Rane. "What did Hermione want?"

"To beg for my forgiveness," Ron paused, unsure of how much he should share with Harry, "and to ask if we could be friends again."

"And?"

"And…" he paused, "I agreed to write to her. Like I said to her, I can't just be friends again. We need to start over." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. So we agree to write and see how things go from there."

Harry tilted his head to observe his friend, and noticed the way that Ron was avoiding looking at him, and how his skin was slightly flushed. "You can use the mirror when ever you need to." Harry offered tentatively.

Ron shook his head adamantly. "I don't think that will be necessary. I'll just stick to owl post. Besides, I hate that ruddy mirror."


	20. Ester's Path

Chapter 20: Ester's Path

He should have been working, should have been doing anything except sitting there alone in a study room torturing himself with thoughts of _her._ It annoyed him to no end that he had just come off a several months relationship with Hermione Granger, a relationship that had, if nothing else, for a short time made him believe that there could be someone else out there for him. But here he was alone, again, thinking of her. Wanting her and knowing like before that he would probably never have her.

As if to mock his torment a soft knock came at the door and her voice penetrated the silence as she stuck her head through the small gap and called his name. Catching movement from the corner of her eye she turned her head to find him sitting at the table. Her eyes lit up and her voice brightened. "There you are." She said as she stepped into the room and used her foot to nudge the door closed. "I've been looking for you."

Bjorn felt his mood sour even more. He didn't have the patience to deal with this now. Turning away from her he began gathering his books together and stuffing them in his bag. Ester took a few steps farther into the room as she continued talking.

"I wanted to come and thank you." She began. "For what you did for Hermione." She stopped when she was at arms length away from him. "I'm so proud of how mature you've handled all of this. It was the right thing to do."

Bjorn bristled with her every word, his eyes narrowing to slits. "I didn't help her because I was mature or because it was the right thing to do." He glared at her over his shoulder. "And I certainly didn't do it because you came and yelled at me."

Ester's face contorted into a look of mixed surprise and curiosity. "Then why did you?"

"Because," he took a deep breath and turned away from her to continue filling his bag. "After I told you to get the hell out of my room and to leave me alone, Hermione came and explained why she needed my help."

"But I thought…"

"You see…" Bjorn rose to his feet and pointed at her with his index finger. "There it is again. Your problem. _You think too much_." He abandoned his task so that he could turn and fully look at her. His arms crossed in front of his chest. "You over analyze everything, trying to see how it works into _the path_. I helped Hermione because she came to me and explained how she _felt _about him. How she's been in love with him for years but too scared to do anything about it. _That's_ why I helped her. Because I know what its like to care for someone and be unable to tell them. I didn't help because of all the logical reasons you gave me about being _mature _or… or it being the right thing to do and mostly not because it would help lead her down her 'proper path'."

Ester stiffened with indignation. "What's wrong with steering people down their proper path?"

"Nothing when you use it sparingly like Rane does!" Bjorn threw his arms out with exasperation. "Why can't you be more like her? She doesn't let it interfere with her life."

Tears of fury swelled in her eyes. "I'm not Rane." Ester shouted, her fists clenched angrily at her side. "And I wouldn't want to be!"

"I'm not asking you to." He shouted back, running his fingers through his sandy hair in frustration. "I just want you to relax a little. Stop taking your _gift," _he said with a sneer,"and all it entails so seriously. You don't have to make it your life."

"I can not logically turn my back on what I know is the proper path."

"Damn logic then!" he shouted angrily. "And damn the path! That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it?" she shouted back. "We have this argument all the time but you never tell me what '_it's' _about How am I supposed to know if you don't tell?"

"You want to know?"

"Yes."

He took a deep calming breath, trying to force his temper into submission. "It's about your inability to make one decision without consulting the path to make sure your actions won't deviate from it."

"That's not true." She denied emphatically.

"It is. Everything is calculated and logical with you. You never let your emotions come out. I don't even thing you know what anger, or rage, or betrayal or even love feels like."

"That's not true!" she screamed, tears leaking down her red cheeks. "I'm feeling anger right now!"

"And what about betrayal or love? Do you know what those feel like?"

"Yes! Damn it! I do! I felt it every time I was forced to watch…" she clapped a hand suddenly over her mouth when she realized what she had almost told him. Eyes wide with panic she spun on her heel to run away and hide herself in her room, but before she was able to take two steps Bjorn clamped his hands around her arms and forced her to turn back around and face him.

"When you were forced to watch what?"

She turned her head away in shame as tears continued to slide down her cheeks. "Nothing."

"Ester, don't do this." He gave her a slight shake, forcing her to look into the depths of his gray orbs. "Don't bottle everything up inside." He pleaded. "For once in your life tell me what you're thinking. I want to know what's going on inside your head, and I don't mean the logical part. I want to know what you're feeling right now, this very minute."

"I… I…"She stammered.

"Ester!" The pair turned their heads as one toward the door at the sound of Hermione's broken voice calling for her. "Ester! Where are you? I…I…re…really ne…need to talk."

Ester pulled out of Bjorn's grasp thanking what ever higher power there was that Hermione had come around just when she had and given her the excuse she needed not to finish this conversation. She wiped fiercely at her cheeks trying to erase the trace of her tears as she walked purposefully towards the door, ignoring Bjorn calling her name from behind.

She pulled open the door calling Hermione's name. Seconds later Bjorn watched her step back to admit Hermione to the room, hands covering her face as she cried, her shoulders shaking violently with her tears.

"Hermione?" he stepped toward her, instantly on guard. "What happened?"

She looked up at him with eyes swimming with tears. Her lips quivered as they parted to speak. "He didn't want me."

Bjorn felt his heart clench for the heartbroken girl. "Come here." He opened his arms to her and with little thought Hermione stepped into them, burring her face in his chest, accepting the comfort he offered. "Shhh." He soothed as he stroked her silky hair. "It's all right."

"No it's not." She shook her head, never raising it from his chest. "He doesn't want me anymore. He's moved on."

"I'm sure that's not true." He spoke in a soothing voice.

"It is." She pulled away far enough so that she could look up at him. "He told me there was someone else."

"Lavender Brown?"

"No." Her tears came back with a vengeance. She tucked her face into his shoulder again, "I think he said it was Rane."

"Rane?" Ester gasped with surprise, reminding the pair that she was still in the room. "Rane Voitekh?" Hermione nodded, not bothering to lift her head from Bjorn's shoulder. "But that's impossible." Ester blurted out.

"Of course it is." Bjorn agreed, continuing to run a soothing hand through her hair. "How could Ron get over you so quickly?"

Hermione smiled up at him weakly, thankful for his attempts to ease her.

"That's not what I meant." Ester continued as she stepped away from the door. "What I meant was that when Rane wrote to me she said that she had re…"

"Shut up, Ester!" Bjorn barked, stopping her short. "For once could you stop with logic and the path and just be a friend?"

"But…"

"No." He shook his head once, giving Ester a withering look. "If you're going to stay it's going to be to give comfort not advice."

Hermione's tears ceased as she looked curiously between her two friends who were glaring daggers at each other over her head. "Did I interrupt something?"

The two continued to stare angrily at each other for another minute before Ester decided to look away from his cold gray eyes. "No." She assured Hermione, taking her arm and pulling her to the sofa, pushing her gently into a seat before taking the one next to her. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Hermione pulled her feet up onto the cushions so that her knees were pressed close to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and tucked them under her chin.

"Everything went as planned." She turned her head to flash Bjorn a small thankful smile. "Your portkey brought me right to my parent's house." She gave a short snort of laughter. "You should have seen the look on their face when I appeared out of nowhere, a small heap on the floor."

"And the letter?" Bjorn prompted his curiosity getting the better of him. He and Hermione had worked on that spell several hours before she had achieved it to her satisfaction.

A slightly smug gleam came to her eyes. "He landed right where I wanted him to." Her smile faded slightly. "He thought I was a Death Eater though. I had to spend ten minutes convincing him that it really was me."

"Well you can't be to careful." Ester conceded. "Well you can't." She insisted when Bjorn glared at her with disbelief. "Anyway," she turned back to Hermione. "What happened after that?"

Hermione lowered her head meekly. "I apologized and he seemed to forgive me."

"Then why are you so sad?"

"Because," she swallowed audibly. "I was too late. Like I said he's already moved on. He told me that he couldn't let me hurt him again, that…that he doesn't trust me. Oh God." She buried her eyes in her knees. "I really ruined things, didn't I?"

"No." Ester said sternly as she placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure it's really not as bad as it seems."

Hermione turned her head to look at her friend. "Ester, he said he doesn't believe in the One and Only anymore."

"What?" she started with surprise.

Hermione nodded sadly, her eyes filling with tears again. "He said that he doesn't believe anymore and that someone as sensible and logical as I shouldn't either." She half heartedly wiped away her tears. "I did that to him, Ester. I hurt him so much that it caused him not to believe anymore."

"The _One and Only_?" Bjorn questioned, his confusion evident in his scrunched up eyebrows.

Hermione nodded sadly. "He used to believe that he would only ever fall in love once and that he would love forever." She closed her eyes. "Maybe he's right. Believing in one and only's isn't sensible or logical."

"Hermione." Ester snapped, taking hold of her friend's face and forcing her to look at her. "Don't you ever say that. Believing in things like One and Only's is not illogical or insensible. Where would this world be if we didn't believe in true love and one and only's and good concurring over evil? It would be a very sad and lonely place to live in."

"But…"

"No." she said sharply, letting go of Hermione's face. "Did he actually say that he no longer loved you?"

Hermione sucked her bottom lip in and gnawed on it as she thought back to the conversation she had had with Ron no more then two hours ago. "No, but I didn't exactly give him the chance."

"Did he ever begin to say it?" Ester persisted.

Hermione's brows scrunched as she focused hard on her memory. "No, I don't think so."

"Then chances are he wasn't going to tell you which means it's probably not true."

"But he said…"

"That he had gotten over you." Ester finished for her, causing Hermione to go silent. "He's hurt, Hermione. He's hurt and he's angry. And when you're hurt like that you'll tell yourself anything if you think it will make the pain go away. He probably has himself half convinced that it's true. But that doesn't mean it is." Hermione glared at her skeptically. "Let's just take a look at you for an example then." Ester scooted closer. "If I, or anyone else, had asked you two months ago if you were in love with Ron Weasley, what would you have said?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of pink. "I would have denied it. I would have told you that you were crazy for even suggesting it."

"Exactly!" Ester beamed. "But you didn't really, did you?"

"No." She conceded. "I didn't."

"So what makes you think it's any different for him?" she persevered. "He fought for you for over four months. Don't you think he deserves the same effort?"

"What? Do you think he's testing me?"

"I don't know. I've never met him. But if he is, and you do nothing, then you've failed. And I've never known you to fail at anything. So don't start now."

Hermione sucked her bottom lip in in her usual pose of deep concentration. Slowly she lowered her feet to the flower and sat straighter. She looked from Bjorn to Ester several times before she pushed herself to her feet and walked determinedly towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Bjorn called after.

Hermione stopped in the doorway and looked back at the two. "I'm going to write Ron a letter."

"What?" Ester's eyes scrunched in confusion.

"Ron and I agreed to write to each other so that we can reestablish our friendship and gain trust back." She explained. "Ron wrote a letter to me everyday, and I'm determined to do the same. Starting today." And with a reasonably confident smile she turned and left the room, closing the door soundly behind her.

Ester and Bjorn sat silently for a few minutes after Hermione had left; neither looking at each other and neither saying anything. While Hermione had been with them Ester wasn't forced to linger on what Bjorn had said. He was right of course. She did avoid dealing with emotions. She had learned long ago what happened when you tried to ignore the path in favor of feelings. In most cases it usually caused more pain then was necessary.

"You did well."

"What?" Ester's hazel eyes snapped to Bjorn's gray ones.

Bjorn rubbed at the back of his neck. "With Hermione." He explained. "You gave her exactly what she needed." He looked down to where his fingers were picking at invisible flecks of dust on his trousers. "I know you were still guiding her down her proper path," his lip twitched up in the corner in the first remnant of a smile she had seen all evening. "It's impossible for you not to. But you were also conscious of her feelings." He glanced up at her with a mischievous smirk. "I'm proud of you."

Her laughter escaped in a rush of air ending with a groan. "I'm sorry Bjorn." She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair before supporting her cheek on her fisted hand. "I know I avoid using emotions and that I'm too serious and focused."

"No." He moved forward in his seat. "I shouldn't have said that. I was out of line."

She shook her head sadly. "No you weren't. You were right." She turned away from his steady gaze to study the pattern in the rug that separated them. "Bjorn?"

"Yes."

Her skin heated further, turning a brilliant shade of scarlet. "I felt betrayed every time I was forced to watch you and Hermione together." She spoke in a voice so soft he hadn't heard.

"What?" He prompted, moving his entire chair closer, leaning in so that he could hear her.

"You said I didn't know what betrayal felt like." she spoke a little louder and a bit more forcefully this time, finding it easier now that she had said it once out loud. "But I said I felt betrayed every time I was forced to watch you and Hermione together." She looked up to see that Bjorn was staring at her with a mixture of surprise and… perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part, hope on his face. "Bjorn?" she questioned when he continued to stare at her saying nothing. "Would you please say something?"

Her heart clenched in her chest when he rose to his feet. For a moment she feared that he was going to leave without saying anything. But instead he took hold of her hands and pulled her insistently to her feet. When she was standing, staring at him with wide eyes he directed her hands over his shoulders before releasing them so that he could wrap his own around her waist. There was just enough time to see him flash her the most heart stopping grin she had ever seen before his lips had captured hers.

She made a sound of surprise in the back of her throat as her eyes drifted closed and her arms tightened around his neck, pulling her body closer to his. All too soon he was pulling away and Ester whimpered in protest. He chuckled as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes closed tight as well. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that?"

Ester lips spread into a smile so wide her cheeks hurt. "Perhaps as long as I've wanted to do this." And she tilted her head slightly to the side, capturing his lips this time in a hungry kiss of her own, one he was all to willing to oblige in.

She felt his tongue run along the seam of her lips and she let them part sending her own tongue forward to meet his. His arms tightened instinctively as he bent at the knees slightly to get a more secure grip before straightening and lifting her off her feet.

Ester broke away from his kiss while her arms wrapped more securely about his neck as she tucked her head into his shoulder and giggled. "Bjorn put me down." She squealed when he started to turn in a circle.

He stopped abruptly causing her arms to tighten. He turned his head to the side and nuzzled his nose against her chin. "All right." And before she was certain what was happening he was falling backwards, landing on the sofa behind him, arms wrapped securely around her waist. They landed with an oomph, Ester sprawled across his lap.

"Insufferable ass." she scolded as she tried to force a severe look on her face, pushing herself up to look at him. But one look into his piercing gray eyes found her loosing further ground under the powerful charm of his smile.

Bjorn tossed his head back and laughed. "Insufferable ass?" She nodded her head, her lips pressed tight together to keep from laughing. "Let's see how insufferable I can be."

Ester's eyes widened in horror as the wicked smile that only meant one thing took over his handsome features. "You wouldn't." she said straight faced.

He smirked smugly, his fingers moving on her waist. "Wouldn't I?"

"Bjorn no!" She screamed trying to lunge away from his nimble fingers but found that she couldn't for her arms and legs were tangled with his. Struggling to extract herself from their twisted limbs, her body withered under the torture of his tickling fingers, broken gasps of laughter escaping her lips. "You…you promised." She barely managed to gasp through her laughter, her body twisting from side to side, trying to escape his questing fingers.

"But I'm an insufferable ass, remember."

"I'm sorry!" She screamed when his fingers found their mark right above her hipbone where Bjorn knew from experience that she was most sensitive. "I didn't mean it. You're not…not an insufferable ass!"

His fingers instantly ceased their torture and settled comfortably on her hips. Sighing with contentment Ester settled her head on his shoulder, giving his arm a painful jab before wrapping her arms around his chest completely, comfortable in a way that is only possible after years of being friends.

"Ester?" Bjorn asked as he lifted his hand and watched the strands of her hair slip through his fingers. "Can I ask you something?"

She tilted her head up so that he could look down at her. "Of course."

Bjorn continued to run his fingers through her hair as he contemplated how exactly to phrase his next question. "Am I a part of your path?"

"What?" Ester pushed against his chest so that she could look at him better.

"Am I a part of your path?" he repeated.

"Bjorn, what kind of question is that?"

His fingers found their way to her hair once again, having lost the touch when she jerked away in surprise. "Ester, I've been in love with you for a very long time. If I found out later that you kissed me or that you were with me because you felt obligated…"

Ester pressed a finger against his lips quieting him. "I'm going to be honest with you, Bjorn. Completely honest." She sat back and waited for him to straighten into a sitting position before she continued. "I can't read you."

"What?" Bjorn's head snapped up with surprise. "I thought you could read everyone. You use to read me all the time."

"Yes I did." She agreed. "I use to be able to read you like a book when we were younger. Remember?"

He nodded. "Of course I remember. It drove me crazy. I could never keep a secret from you."

"And yet we still remained friends." Ester lips twitched in a sort of half smile. "Well as we got older and my feelings for you began to change I was able to read you like I do everyone else less and less, until my ability was almost gone. I can still pick up basic things, strong thoughts and emotions. But I can no longer see your path."

"I don't understand." His face was cross with bewilderment. "What does that mean?"

"That means that as I fell more and more in love with you, your path became more entwined with mine. And as you know I can't read my own path."

His eyes widened with understanding. "Which is why you can't read mine anymore."

"Exactly."

Bjorn tilted his head to the side as he ran her revelations over in his head. "So you have known for a while that we were meant to be." It wasn't a question it was a statement.

"I guess you could say that." her head dropped low so that it almost touched her chest.

"Then why haven't you said anything until now?"

"Because," she shrugged a diminutive shoulder. "I needed to know that you didn't feel forced into anything. I needed to know that you were with me because that was what you wanted, not what you felt you were obliged to do.

Bjorn took Ester's face gently between his hands and tilted her face up until she met his eyes. "You would have let me go down the wrong path if that's what I had wanted, even if it meant it wasn't your path?"

"Our path. And yes." Her eyes misted with a light sheen of tears. "I would have."

Bjorn pulled her in for a tender kiss, lingering at her lips a moment before pressing a kiss to her brow, the tip of her nose her cheek. "You really are the most amazing person I have ever met." He finally said, holding her face steady before his. "You know that don't you?"

She tried to shake her head but his hands stopped her. "I'm nothing special." She insisted. "I'm…"

"You're amazing." he maintained capturing her lips in another kiss, drawing her into the warmth of his arms. "Don't you ever forget that."

Ester pressed a kiss into his neck and murmured softly. "I love you, you insufferable ass."

Bjorn chuckled with amusement as his arms tightened around her. "And I love you, you infuriating logical girl."

There eyes caught and they felt themselves being drawn magnetically towards the other. Their lips were a breath away from each other when the sound of emphatic clapping came from the other side of the room. The pair turned their heads slowly to see Maj, Thora and Yorick standing in a clump just inside the door that they hadn't heard open, clapping wildly, faces beaming.

"It's about time!" Thora shouted above the racket. Ester blushed with mortification as she hid her reddening face in the crook of Bjorn's shoulder, feeling them shake with the weight of his laughter.

"Come on, Ester." He nudged. "Let's really give them something to cheer about." And when she looked up at him with curiosity he swept in and kissed her with such passion she feared she might be burned. But as she settled into the kiss she decided that sometimes fire tasted rather good and would be well worth the blaze.


	21. Rane Intervenes

Chapter 21: Rane Intervenes

For the first time since September, Harry was thankful that Hermione was tucked away safe in Bulgaria. Since the breakout at Azkaban Prison, Death Eater attacks were on the rise. Fred and George's joke shop was just the first on the list of many others to follow. Soon all the shop owners were closing their doors in fear that theirs would be the next to go. With every store closing announcement that appeared in _The Daily Prophet _Harry grew more grim. Voldemort was gaining power. His Death Eeaters were wreaking havoc and disrupting their daily lives, bringing the wizarding community to their knees financially. And Harry knew it was only a matter of time before they started attacking individuals, just as he knew Hermione would be on the very top of Draco Malfoy's list of prime first targets.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked over the top of his Quidditch notes. Of course there were other reasons he was glad Hermione wasn't anywhere near Hogwarts, and that reason was sitting across the room from him and Ginny. Ever since Hermione had sent Ron back to them a month ago he had been acting rather strange. He and Rane now spent more time together then ever. They spent hours revising at their usual corner table; she and her friends now joined them for every meal; and Ron had even taken the time to teach her how to play Quidditch.

Upon hearing this news Harry and Ginny had rushed down to the Quidditch pitch, as well as most of the other Gryffindors, to find a front row seat and watch. For many months now Rane had turned down every offer to join in an impromptu game, claming that she was horribly uncoordinated off the ground. If this were true Harry suspected it would have been highly entertaining to try and watch Ron keep his temper long enough to teach her. And much to his amusement, Rane really was as horrible as she claimed to be. No one could fake her awkward grip and jerky movements.

What Harry didn't find amusing was the way Ron kept at it for nearly two hours and only came close to loosing his temper once when Rane had lurched suddenly to the side and beamed him in the head with the tail end of her broom. And even that burst of anger was confined to one choice curse word before he rubbed his head and forcefully laughed it off, assuring her that it was quiet all right. If anyone else had done what she had they would have gotten more then one choice word but an entire ear full, as well as the full evidence of the famed Weasley wrath.

It wasn't until that moment that Harry realized the full extent of what was happening. Ron and Rane weren't just friends. Ron was, for the lack of a better word, courting her. And Rane seemed all to willing to let him do it. And what was worse, Harry now found himself fighting an internal battle of wills. A very strong part of him wanted to step in and intervene, to tell Ron that he was being a right prat. But then he remembered what his friend had been like before Christmas and didn't want a return of the sadder, more depressing Ron.

Ron still hadn't told him what Hermione has said to him the day she had 'summoned him', as Ron liked to call it, but Harry suspected that what ever it was it was brought about this change. And it wasn't a bad change, he had to admit, it was just a change that didn't feel right. Harry knew Ron probably better then the red head knew himself, and there was no doubt in his mind that Ron was still in love with Hermione. And Harry couldn't believe that Hermione's affections really rested elsewhere, Ron had been all to happy after all to report that Hermione was no longer seeing 'that Bulgarian git', more evidence to Harry's thinking of Ron's affection.

But there in lie the problem. Harry was fully aware of Ron's affections, he had all but told him he was in love with her. And Harry suspected that Hermione felt the same way for Ron, but she had never confided in Harry so he didn't know for fact. So he drew the only conclusion that made any sense for Ron's behavior. Hermione must not realize that she fancied him, or Harry had been wrong from the very begging and she really didn't, but he couldn't quiet make himself believe that.

As Harry watched, Ron tried unsuccessfully, once again, to casually take hold of Rane's hand only to have her move it out of reach at the last moment. He had been doing that more frequently over the past month. Harry knew it was wrong, but every time Ron failed he breathed with a sigh of relief. If Hermione did still fancy him, Harry hated to think what would happen when she came home to discover that he had moved on to another girl.

Harry felt a gentle prod in his side, and turned his head to see Ginny nodding towards the window that had just been opened by a first year. A large barn owl swooped in through the opening and made its way towards Ron and Rane. "Hermione's written again." She murmured as the owl came to land in front of the tall red head.

Harry sighed with relief. Four and a half weeks and the letters were still coming. Harry knew Hermione was trying to make it up to him. In all the time that had passed not a day had gone by without a letter from Bulgaria arriving. And while in the company of others Ron acted like it was no big thing, Harry knew that at night when he thought the rest of the dorm was sleeping, he would reread the letter several times before going to sleep. And that all the letters she had sent were tucked away carefully in a box under his bed in the place where another box had once sat. Harry didn't know what Ron had done with all the letters that Hermione had sent back to him since September, but he suspected Ron had binned them or burdened them.

Ron jumped with a start when the barn owl had landed in front of him. He saw the now familiar envelope bearing his name in Hermione's precise handwriting. Looking guiltily between Rane and the envelope, he moved quickly, snatching the missive free of the bird and slipping it into his pocket, hoping she hadn't seen.

Rane's quill stopped moving abruptly as she looked over at Ron, her brows furrowed in confusion. She straightened in her seat as she dabbed the remaining ink off her quill and set it beside her roll or parchment. "Ron, why do you do that?"

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink as he tried to look anywhere but at her. "Do what?"

Her eyes widened with annoyance. "Try and hide Hermione's letters from me?"

Ron's neck sank into his shoulder as he smiled sheepishly. "I thought it might bother you."

Rane sat back with surprise. "Why on earth would you think Hermione writing you would bother me?"

Ron's skin grew even more heated under her steady gaze. "Well, be…because I thought…I thought that you…I mean we…"

Rane's eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly open with understanding. "Oh…oh I see. You thought…"She put out a hand and let it fall gently on his wrist. "It's all right. I understand." She tilted her head to the side and looked at him intently before giving it a slight nod. "It is time." She stood up and her hand slid free of his wrist, breaking contact making him almost immediately sorry for the loss. "Ron I think we have to talk. Would you come with me?"

Wishing that the floor would open up and swallow him whole where he sat, he looked about anxiously for something to save him from going with her. He didn't know exactly what she wanted to say to him but thought he had a very good idea, and he knew it wasn't anything that he particularly wanted to hear. It couldn't be good if they needed to leave the room for her to say it.

As if she had read his thoughts and knew he was looking for an escape, she took hold of his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Ron, I have put this off for to long. We _need_ to talk." She cast a quick glance about the room and saw that other four sixth year boys that shared Ron's dorm were in the common room and so suggested his dormitory. Knowing that there was no chance of escape Ron followed reluctantly behind.

Ginny looked over at Harry and saw that he had noticed the same thing she had. "What do you think there going to do?"

Harry shook his head slowly, "I don't know." He met Ginny's warm coffee brown eyes. "But what ever it is I don't like the look of it."

When Ron and Rane gained the solitude of the boy's dormitory, Ron instantly sought the comfort and security of his bed. He sat down at the head, moving his pillow so that it wouldn't be crushed beneath him. Rane on the other hand turned and impervioused the door so that they would not be disturbed. Satisfied that the door was thoroughly sealed she gave her head a curt nod before she turned abruptly on her heal to find Ron watching her with an apprehensive gaze.

"It's all right Ron," she assured him. "I brought you up here to help you."

Ron sat up straighter in surprise. He watched with slightly narrowed eyes as Rane made her way to his bed and sat down across from him at the foot. She made herself comfortable crossing her legs beneath her and leaning back against one of the posts.

"To begin with," Rane tipped her head back to rest on the wooden post, her eyes never leaving him. "Why don't you tell me about her?"

"Who?" Ron asked, "Hermione?"

Rane nodded. "I've never met her so I won't hold an opinion, but from I've gathered, hearing people talk about her, she is a bossy little know-it-all."

Ron's lips twitched slightly at her words. "Yeah, I probably called her that more then anyone."

"And yet you love her anyway."

Ron bristled with aggravation. "I don't love her."

Rane's lips curved down in a frown. "You can't lie to me Ronald Weasley. I know for a fact that you love her, so don't try and deny it."

Ron felt the begging's of his temper rising inside him. "Who are you to tell me what _I _feel?"

"Don't get angry with me." She snapped back. "I'm just trying to help. Everyone here knows you're mad for her. And to be honest, if what they say is true, I don't understand. How _can_ anyone as laid back as I know you can be, possibly be in love with a bossy little know-it-all like her?"

Ron crossed his arms and leaned back, his lips pursed as if trying to decide what to make of Rane and her upfront questions. Despite himself Ron felt the urge to confide in his friend, sensing that she could help him in a way that Harry, no matter how great a friend he was, never could.

Deciding to follow his gut instinct he closed his eyes as he conjured an image of Hermione to the forefront of his brain. "I know most people find her know-it-all ways to be infuriating, I do myself sometimes. But oddly enough," he opened his lids and pinned Rane with his penetrating blue orbs. "That is one of the things I love most about her."

"Really?" Rane seemed genuinely surprised. "Most would not find those attractive qualities."

Ron couldn't help but smile. "I thought the same thing when I first met her. But do you want to know what else I thought?" he waited for Rane's nod. "I couldn't help but think that she had to be one of the kindest people I ever met, even if she was a bit uptight and a little bit of a show off."

Rane settled onto the bed with her legs crossed, elbows propped on each knee, and chin resting on her clasped hands, sure that Ron would continue talking with very little prompting necessary.

"She cut her hair you know." He leaned his head back against the stead, lifted his knees until they were bent and rested his wrists on them so that his hands hung down in front of him. "I think I was the only person in this school who thought her hair was beautiful the way it was." His eyes drifted closed and a sad sort of smile formed on his lips. "I use to stare at her endlessly wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through her thick hair." His eyes snapped open. "You don't think that's weird, do you?"

Rane couldn't help smiling as she shook her head no. She didn't think it was strange at all, in fact she thought it sounded rather sweet.

Ron, satisfied with her nod, continued. "I don't think I could pin down exactly what it is that made me fall in love with her. All I know is that Hermione has always been there for me. Has always had my best interest at heart. And has risked her life for Harry and me more times then I wish to count. That's not something you can say about most people."

"No." she agreed. "I don't suppose it is." She tilted her head to the side to study him, knowing full well there was more. "So what happened to change that?" Ron's eyes snapped to hers in slight surprise. "You never explained to me why you stopped talking to each other."

Sighing heavily he looked away from her penetrating amber eyes. "I said something I shouldn't have said." He answered deliberately vague knowing full well if he said anymore it would be all over the school by morning. "I've apologized several times…"

"But she refuses to forgive you." She finished for him.

Ron tilted his head from side to side. "I don't think it's that." He tapped his knee in consideration with the knuckle of his right hand. "If you had said that before Christmas Holiday, I would have agreed with you."

"Then what changed?"

Ron's lips twitched from side to side as he thought. "I went to see her before she went back to Bulgaria."

"Well?" she asked excitedly. "What happened?"

Ron shrugged dismissively. "I apologized again and I explained to her why I said what I did and I pretty much told her what I felt about her."

Rane's mouth dropped to nearly her chest. "And she still hasn't forgiven you?" she asked indignantly, offended for her friend even though she didn't know what his true offense was. The only information she had to go on was what she had seen and heard since she arrived at Hogwarts.

From what she had heard Ran had been a real laugh in previous years, not as much as his two older brothers, but funny enough on his own. From the girls she had learned that he had a right charming and infectious laugh, something that was sorely missed for he rarely laughed openly anymore, and when he did it was restrained and forced. All she knew was that Hermione's callous treatment of Ron had hurt him greatly and she took great offense to anyone hurting one of her friends.

"She's forgiven me." Ron's reply took her aback.

"I don't understand." She looked at him with confusion written plainly on her face.

Ron lowered his knees until his legs were crossed beneath him. "You have to understand. Hermione is an extremely stubborn and willful person, rivaling probably only myself." Ron ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. "She spent four months convincing herself that she hated me and that what's more, I hated her. If I know my Mione, and I assure you I do, she threw herself into her homework, and meeting other people so that she wouldn't have to think about me."

Rane tilted her head to the side in consideration. "What made her change her mind?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "I don't know. I do know that she read my letters, but I don't know if they are what brought her around. "But what ever it was, that's why she summoned me to her a few weeks back. To tell me she forgave me. To ask my forgiveness for her pigheadedness and to tell me …to tell me that she loves me." Ron waited to gauge Rane's reaction and was most surprised that she didn't seem to have one. She continued to stare at him intently, her manner leading him to believe that she had expected nothing less.

"Why do I have the feeling that you already knew all this?"

Rane's lips twitched into a timid half smile. "Because in a way I did."

Ron sat up with a start. "What?"

"Not all the details." She assured him. "Just the general idea, however what is a bit foggy for me is how you reacted to her declaration."

"Wait," Ron held up a halting hand. "How could you possibly know what's been going on between me and Hermione? I haven't even told Harry everything."

Rane tapped her chin impatiently with her fingers. "I'll answer all your questions _after_ you've finished answering all mine."

Ron opened his mouth to argue but the stern look on her face was enough to silence his words before they had a chance to fully form in his brain.

When she was certain Ron would not object further she waved her hand vaguely. "You reaction?" She prompted.

Determined that he wasn't going to answer any further, he crossed his arms stubbornly in front of his chest but somehow, beyond his will, found his mouth opening and the rest of his story pouring out. "I told her that I had moved on and that I didn't know if we could be friends anymore."

Rane's mouth fell open in surprise. Despite her many abilities, she had not expected that. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, before narrowing into thin slits of annoyance. "What on earth," her hands found her way to her slender hips, "would posses you to say something as foolish as that?"

"It wasn't foolish." He charged back angrily. "She could have had my heart in the palm of her hands but she threw it back in my face." Rane straightened further, her mind racing with thought. "I've had a dull ache in my chest for months and I have no desire to have it back, thank you."

Making up her mind, Rane extended her hand towards the tall red head, "Ron, may I see your hand please." Without waiting to see what his response would be she crawled closer to him, plopped down, once again cross legged, and pulled his right hand towards her face and bent over it.

Ron frowned with confusion. "What do you want with my hand?" He tried to snatch it back but she held firm.

"I'm reading your palm." She murmured without looking up.

AS was her habit she had spoken quietly and it had been difficult for Ron to hear, but when her words clicked into place he rolled his bright blue eyes as images of Trelawney and her tower room classes came to mind. "Please tell me you don't believe in that fortune telling rubbish."

Rane glanced up at him, her eyes narrowed angrily. "I'll have you know that not all forms of divination or _all_ practitioners are phony."

"Right." The tone of his voice spoke eloquently of his disbelief.

She released his hand to fold her arms in front of her chest. "I'll have you know," she said with a glacial edge to her voice, "that I am a descendent of a long line of gypsies?" Ron's eyes widened with surprise and admiration. "My family has been '_fortune telling' _for centuries and not once have we been wrong."

"You're a gypsy? Like a real gypsy?" he asked with excitement, getting over his initial surprise. Rane nodded curtly. "Wicked!"

"Yes." Her lips inadvertently twitched at Ron's enthusiasm. "All the females in my family have the gift. My grandmother, my mother, my aunt, my cousin Ester, though she tries to fight it, and I all have the gift."

"Ester?" Ron asked with surprise. "As in Hermione's friend Ester?"

"Indeed." She reached for his hand once again and opened it up to her observing eyes. "Our mothers are sisters. When their caravan went through Bulgaria twenty years ago they met two best friends. My mother says she knew instantly she had found her one." Her nose twitched, and her eyes scrunched as she peered closer at the folds in his hand. "My mother and aunt decided to leave the caravan in favor of staying with my father and my uncle. They still practice of course, but only when it is completely necessary. And my grandmother, when the caravan comes through, always comes and teaches Ester and I different aspects of our gift." Rane frowned and glanced up at Ron for a moment. "Ester's funny about the gift though. Grandmother makes her come to the lessons but she refuses to learn all the different aspects of being a gypsy." She returned her focus to Ron's hand. "But she is incredible at divining the path and reading people. Better then I'll ever be. I'm much better at the physical things. Palm reading, tarot cards, tea leaves. My favorite is the crystal ball, but I only get to use one when I'm with my grandmother." Rane fell silent for several minutes and Ron could tell she was deep in thought by the crease that formed across the middle of her forehead. "It's strange though. For how much Ester hates being a Gypsy she refuses to deviate from the path."

"The path."

"Ummm." Rane ran her finger along one of the many lines in Ron's palm. Her touch was so soft as it skimmed across his flesh that it tickled causing his hand to jerk. Rane smirked as she glanced up at him before returning to his palm. "Did you know that gypsies have other gifts besides divining the future?"

Ron shook his head dumbly. "I don't really know much about gypsies. I'm sure Hermione could rattle off any fact you could possibly want. But I'm afraid I'm hopeless."

"That's all right." She assured him, "Not many people do. We like to keep our secrets within our people. A long time ago we use to offer our gifts freely, but then outsiders started to take advantage of us. That is why we started our caravans. That way we would never be in one place for to long and there wouldn't be a chance for our secrets to slip out."

"What kind of secrets?"

For a minute Ron thought she wasn't going to answer. She was staring at his palm so fixedly, her eyes scrunched in the middle. "I know things." She responded without looking up.

"You know things?"

"Umm." She nodded again. She pushed a strand of black hair out of her eyes and behind her right ear. "For instance, at the start of term I _knew _that you had gotten into an argument with a loved one and that you were hurting because of it. I also _know_ that Harry is being forced to carry a heavy burden." She glanced up at Ron "a burden that could change the course of the world as we know it."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "You know about that?" He was clearly astonished. How could Rane know of the prophecy when Harry had only told him what it had said a few months ago?

"Not as much as you do." She finally looked up from his palm, but still held it firmly in hers. "It's hard to explain really. I can…sense things." She screwed up her eyes as she tried to find a way to better explain her gift to him. "Have you ever heard of women's intuition?" Ron nodded in the affirmative. "It's kind of like that." She explained. "I know things I shouldn't know. I can sense feelings and thoughts. I know when people are heading in harms direction and when I need to intervene." She turned her focus back to his palm. "It's because of my gift that I knew I never had a chance of winning your affection for myself."

"Wha… If you fancy me why are you doing this?" he asked one of the most intelligent and insightful questions of his life.

She directed his sight to his hand, "The answers are all right here in your palm." With her index finger she traced a long, thick and deep set line that ran the length of his hand. "This line means you will love once, you will love deep and you will love forever." Ron leaned in closer momentarily blocking her view. "Do you see this?" she pointed to another identifying mark in his palm that he couldn't see in the dim light. "This means that you will find the one very young in life." She scrunched up her nose as she brought his hand closer to his face, smoothing his fingers across her palm. "You have a long road ahead of you, Ron. There are many barriers in your path to true happiness. Many trials you will have to face. There will be times when you will feel like giving up." She looked up as her hand tightened painfully around his wrist. "But you mustn't. Believe me when I say that in the end all the heartache you go through will be worth it, and you and the one will be happy. Blissfully so. So don't give up." She said curling his hand into a tight fist, squeezing her own around it for emphasis.

When Rane finally released his hand they sat there feeling a bit awkward in the silence that followed her emphatic speech. Finally he lifted his hand and spread his fingers wide as possible, holding it up until it was just in front of his nose, barley brushing against its long tip. "It said all that in my palm?"

The serious mood evaporated and the pair grinned at each other as Rane started laughing followed quickly by Ron. Rane's lips spread into a bright smile. They were right. Ron really did have an infectious, charming laugh.

"So," he turned his palm over in his lap "you think my hand says all that?"

"No." she swung her legs over the side of his bed, and rose to her feet. "I know it says all that." She turned around, her hands on her hips, and looked down at him sternly. "So, have we had enough of this nonsense?"

"What nonsense?" he asked being purposefully obtuse.

Rane knew that a part of him was trying to poke fun, but she also knew that a greater part of him was not completely convinced with all she had said. "You believe me, don't you?"

"About what?" He turned his hand over so that it cold grip his knee. "You being a gypsy or what you said you read in my palm?"

"Both."

Ron's face scrunched in concentration as he too threw his legs over the side of the bed, however he remained seated, looking up at her from where he sat. "I believe you on being a gypsy. I knew there was something different about you."

She nodded, mildly satisfied. "And what I read in your palm?"

Ron looked away. "I haven't made my mind up." He could feel her disapproving glare without looking up. "It's just that…so much has happened. And I don't see how after everything that's happened things can be as perfect as you say." He looked down to where his hands were gripping his knees so tight that his knuckles were turning white. "It's just too hard."

To his surprise she reached forward and slipped her hand inside his pocket and pulled loose the letter from Hermione he had tucked away. "She's making an effort, Ron. Why aren't you?"

Ron snatched the letter angrily out of her hand. "Because I tried since August and she rejected my every attempt. If things were meant to be between us, it wouldn't be this hard. It wouldn't have hurt so much."

"No Ron, you have it backwards. It's because it's meant to be that it hurt so much. If it wasn't you wouldn't care so much."

Feeling defeated, Ron dropped his head into his hands. Instantly Rane reached out and ran her fingers through his hair with a mother's tenderness. At her touch he looked up at her with tear filled eyes. "I just can't. Not again."

Sensing his need for comfort Rane wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, still running her fingers through his fiery red hair. She would let it be for now. She had never been wrong before and wouldn't start now.

When Ron finally pulled free of her hug the tears were gone from his eyes. A dull pink tone spread from his ears to cover his face and travel down his neck. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Rolling her eyes and chuckling merrily she jabbed his in the shoulder with her fist. "Ron, you are such a prat."

He smiled wickedly up at her. "I see I've had a good influence on you. English swear words and all."

"Yes, well." She stepped back. "One can hardly spend time with you without picking up a few." Once again she sank onto the bed beside him, sitting cross legged and watching him intently. "So why don't you open the letter and see what it says?"

Ron looked over at her sheepishly for he just now realized that he was still clutching the letter in his hand. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Rane rolled her amber eyes. "Must I go through this all again?" She held out her hand with an exaggerated sigh. "Here give me your hand."

"That's all right." Ron ignored her small hand in favor of breaking the wax seal on the envelope. "I only needed to hear that once."

Smirking to herself Rane settled into a more comfortable position so that she could watch Ron as he read his letter. He could deny his feelings all he wanted, but it took one glance at him while reading her letter to know that he was deluding himself. His eyes lit up and sparkled merrily, his lips settled into a soft half smile. Every once in a while he would chuckle or roll his eyes but the smile never left his face.

When Rane thought he was reaching the close of the letter, which took a while considering Hermione had written on a good length of parchment and had miniscule, precise handwriting, his eyes scrunched in thought and then relaxed. His face morphed into a thoughtful expression as he folded the parchment and tucked it back in its envelope.

"Well," Rane asked, barely able to suppress her curiosity. "What did it say?"

"What? Do you mean you don't _know_?" His face was a mask of sarcastic surprise. "But I thought you knew everything."

"Ha ha. Very funny, Ron." She elbowed him in the side. "What did it say?"

The same tender smile that came over his face while he read her letter appeared now. He looked down to where he was continuously turning the paper over in his hand. "Nothing really at first. Just telling me what she and her friends, you're friends as well I suppose, were getting up. She spent half the letter telling me about this book she found in the library that she's been reading. I now have no need to read it myself." Rane chuckled alone with him. "And then she asked me if I still had the letter that she wrote to me four weeks ago. See she's coming back to England for the Easter Holiday and she wants to see me and she thinks that would be the best way?" He looked over at her with the same thoughtful expression as before on his face. "I still have the letter. But I don't know if I should go and see her."

"Well," she gave him a contemplative look. "I won't tell you what to do. I know what I think you should do, but then again I've already told you haven't I?"

"What are you muttering?"

Rane smiled brightly. "Nothing." She assured him. "Just thinking out loud. You have three weeks to decide. You can go and see her, or you can not. The choice is up to you."

There was the abrupt sound of the handle trying to be turned as well as the thud of a body hitting the door. "Oh no!" Came Neville's distraught voice. "Don't tell me I have to remember another password."

Ron and Rane shared a pained expression before the both burst into fits of laughter, practically falling over each other.

"Of course there hasn't." Came Seamus aggravated voice. "They've imperviated the door. But look its wearing off."

"What do you think there doing in there?" Dean questioned next.

"Nothing I want to see." Came Neville's panicked voice followed by feet fleeing down the stairs.

"Oh dear." Rane flopped back on the bed still chuckling. "I suspect there will be rumors about us all over school by morning."

Ron shrugged as he fell back on the bed. "Oh well." He tilted his head to the side to look at her. "Let them talk. I don't really care."


	22. The Box, the Mirror and the Owlry

Chapter 22: The Box, The Mirror and the Owlrey

It seemed nothing on earth could possibly be faster then the Hogwarts rumor mill. Several minutes after they had heard Seamus, Dean and Neville scamper back down the dormitory staircase, Ron and Rane decided it was well past time for them to return to their assignments.

When they reached the Gryffindor common room they were greeted with a multitude of varying reactions. Rane was met with many evil glares, the most threatening coming from Lavender Brown who was sitting in a corner with Parvati who was trying her best to console her friend, while casting an apologetic look toward Rane; as well as obnoxious snickers from bowed heads behind straight hands. Ron for the most part however, was given the nod of approval from many of the blokes as well as looks of admiration and pride from some of the younger students.

From the corner of his eye Ron saw that Neville, still red faced and flushed from embarrassment, was rising from the table where Harry and Ginny were sitting. The two watched Neville a moment, mouths hanging wide until they felt Ron's eyes on them. Ron could tell that Harry's mind was working furiously behind his glasses. Finally the emerald eyed boy nodded his head towards the portrait hole, indicating that his friend should join him outside. Ron watched as his sister reached out and placed a halting hand on Harry's arm, her eyes looking questioningly into his. Harry leaned in long enough to whisper something in Ginny's ear before he straightened and walked toward the exit.

Ron took just enough time to murmur where he was going to Rane, causing his fellow Gryffindors to lean together further and fill the air with their fresh giggles. Obviously they took his actions as confirmation of what had happened up in the sealed dorm room. Ron rolled his eyes before slipping out the portrait hole and joining Harry in the hall.

He found his friend leaning, arms crossed, against the wall a short distance down the hallway from the portrait of the fat lady, who was leaning precariously forward in her chair, trying to afford herself a position that she could over hear what would be said without leaving her post in the portrait.

Harry scowled down at his crossed ankles as Ron approached, not bothering to look up at him. Ron stopped several paces away and joined Harry against the wall. He could tell his friend was upset, but whether it was because of what happened up stairs or something else he was unsure.

Harry took several deep breaths trying to find the words to say what he needed to say. "Rane… She's a nice girl, Ron." He finally managed, looking up into his friend's confused blue eyes. "I don't want to see her hurt."

Ron stiffened with slight indignation. "Neither do I."

"That's good." Harry pushed away from the wall. "But that's not what has me worried."

"Harry…"

Harry held up a forceful hand. "I don't know what's going on with you anymore, Ron. I don't know what happened between you and Hermione and I don't know what happened up in that dorm room. But I do know you, and I know you wouldn't do anything…inappropriate. And I know you would never _deliberately_ try and hurt anyone… But that doesn't change the fact that the rest of the school doesn't know you as well as I do and by morning, thanks to Seamus, Dean and Neville, every student is going to think something did happen up there. And…and…_people_ might get hurt."

Ron's jaw firmed as he straightened from his leaning position against the wall. He wasn't daft. He knew exactly what '_people'_ Harry was referring too. "Yes, well…why don't you let me worry about that? It's between us after all, isn't it?"

Ron turned to walk back to the common room but Harry's voice calling his name stopped him. He turned slowly to look back at his friend. "Wh…what exactly did happen up there?" Looking closely he could see the curiosity burning behind the annoyance in Harry's eyes.

Ron's brows arched suggestively but his lips remained obstinately closed.

"I'm your best mate." Harry implored. "You can tell me anything."

"I know." Ron shrugged dismissively. "There's nothing to tell." His eyes twinkled with mischief as he turned and walked back towards the portrait hole.

The portrait bearing the fat lady burst open suddenly and banged against the wall with a loud crash, its occupant giving out a screech of fury just as Ron reached it. With a painful oomph Ginny tumbled out and into Ron, who caught her and helped her gain her footing. She thanked him sweetly as she pushed the fiery locks of her hair back from her eyes.

"I was actually coming out here to get you both." She looked between Harry and Ron. Harry used his hand to stifle his laughter. He could see the curiosity burning behind the younger girl's dark eyes. "A package just arrived for us from Mum." She stared at them pointedly. "I think its stuff _Fred_ and _George_ were, you know, _working_ on before…" she broke off, aware that the fat lady was straining to listen to them from the other side of the door.

Ron nodded. "Right." He stepped past Ginny and climbed through the portrait gap leaving his best friend and little sister alone in the hall.

"So?" Ginny's eyes lit up with curiosity when the door swung closed. "What happened? I mean, did Neville really find them…?"

Harry continued to stare at the wall Ron had disappeared through. His mind was buzzing with thought. He couldn't understand why his friend was being so curiously quiet. It wasn't as if Harry would go telling the whole school what Ron had told him in confidence. There had to be something else. Some other reason why his best mate was being so stubbornly mute.

"I'm not certain." Harry's eyes scrunched together. "I know he fancies her, at least a little bit. But…I don't know." He shook his head before looking into Ginny's observant brown eyes. "He wasn't happy enough to have just come from a good snogging, but he wasn't nearly depressed enough to have been turned down by her."

Ginny's brow furrowed in thought. "So what do you think happened?"

Harry looked away. "I don't know." He shrugged. "But we should go back in before Ron does something stupid like open the box in front of everyone."

Without thinking, Harry placed his hand in the small of Ginny's back and guided her forward towards the fat lady, who was waiting impatiently for them at the end of the corridor. It wasn't until they were a few steps a way and he saw her smirk knowingly at them that Harry realized where his hand was resting. He snatched it away just as Ginny gave the password and the portrait swung open revealing the entrance. Harry tucked his hand into his pocket, a slight smile lingering on his lips. He could still feel the heat of her back in his palm.

Ginny had just set down her foot to step up through the hole when she stopped and turned back to Harry. "Do you think we should tell Hermione?"

Harry paused a moment to consider her question. "Do you think we should?"

Ginny bent her head to the side, her eyes staring blindly at his face while her lips twitched in thought. "I think we should." She looked up into Harry's emerald green eyes and felt a tightening in her stomach that she felt every time she looked at him. "It'll be easier coming from us."

"So you think she…"

"Yeah." Ginny nodded, not needing to hear the rest of his question. "I've shared a room with her for the past three summers. She does."

Harry sighed heavily and motioned Ginny to step through. "That's what I thought."

Harry and Ginny had decided it would be better to tell Hermione together, in person would be best, but since that was not an option at the present time they decided to use the mirror instead. It was after all almost like talking to her in person. Now they just needed to find a way to get away from Ron.

Now that he knew of the mirror and he and Hermione were corresponding with each other regularly, Hermione every day, Ron when he felt like it, there was no longer a need to hide the fact that they used the mirror to talk to her. Ron still scowled at the sight of the oblong piece of glass, but never made any comment to its existence. But seeing as the thing they wished to tell her was about Ron, they decided it would be best if he weren't present when they did so.

Ron's enthusiasm over what they found in the package however kept them occupied for the rest of the night as the three went through all the weapons of stealth in the box. There were rings for wearing that when the gem was turned would give off an intense blinding light for anyone excluding the wearer. There were quills that when snapped in half would fill the room with a heavy fog, Chocolate Frogs that when activated would attack, and rolls of parchment that were enchanted to work as shields.

Ron's favorite were the packages of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans that when stepped on would cast the tripping jinx, while Harry favored another set of rings he found deep in the pile. As soon as he realized their use he handed one to both of the red heads, insisting that they both put one on immediately. All one had to do, he explained when they stared at his curiously, was wear the ring on the wand hand, give it a tap with the tip of their wand, and it would act as a sort of real. Harry had both Ron and Ginny test his ring by casting accio charms to call his wand. The piece of wood barely reached the edge of his finger tips when the ring called it back. The only down side they discovered was that the ring needed time to recharge after each save as its efficiency at calling back the wand lessened with each attempt. Still, Harry thought, this ring could make the difference in a life and death situation.

Harry and Ginny themselves had become so enthralled with the objects they found in the box that they weren't even aware how late it was until after an enormous yawn accompanied by a long stretch on Ginny's part, a sight that drew Harry's attention immediately and held it captured until she slumped into a chair with exhaustion, drew their attention to the time. It was a quarter past midnight, far too late to try and contact Hermione that night. And despite himself, Harry couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He dreaded the look he would see on Hermione's face when they told her about Ron and Rane.

As it was Harry and Ginny couldn't find a chance to contact her until the next eveing after dinner when Ron was once again tucked away in the corner with Rane. They had been working on their Transfiguration homework but now they were sitting with their heads bowed together, Rane was holding his hand and they were both looking down. Whatever they were discussing they both had a very serious look on their face.

Deciding that Ron was far to engrossed with Rane at the moment to notice if she and Harry slipped away for a short while, Ginny placed her hand gently on his wrist to draw his attention. Harry turned his head just enough so that he was looking at her. "Do you have the mirror?" She questioned. Harry nodded, patting his pocket where the mirror was stowed. "We should do it now while he's distracted."

Harry glanced over at Ron and Rane and his eyes narrowed with annoyance. He closed his book with a loud thud causing the people sitting near by to glance over at him with curiosity. He ignored the stares to stuff his book and parchment in his bag. "Might as well." He muttered when the last pair of staring eyes returned to their own work. He stood up and Ginny followed suit. "What do you think her reaction is going to be?" Harry asked as he held the door open for Ginny to step through.

She waited until the portrait swung closed behind them and they were well away from the fat lady's prying ears before speaking. "It's hard to say, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she took a moment to compose her thoughts, "I think a part of her is hoping or maybe counting on the fact that despite everything that happened Ron is incredibly loyal. And he's stubborn. He wrote a letter to her every day for months for Merlin's sake."

"But?" Harry asked, knowing one was coming.

"But… Hermione is nothing if she's not logical and it would be completely naive of her to believe that after all that she put him through that he wouldn't try and move on."

"Yes," Harry agreed, "but why now?" he stopped mid step forcing Ginny to halt as well and look back at him. "Why would he decide to pursue Rane _now_ when things are finally starting to get back on track with Hermione? He's going to ruin everything all over again."

"I don't know." She shrugged, brushing the thick sheet of copper hair over her shoulder. "He might be my brother, but you're his best friend. You know him better then I do."

"You've known him longer." Harry objected childishly.

Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. "As if that matters." She slipped her arm through his and tugged him into movement. "Ron and I haven't been close since he left for school and met you. And don't you go saying something stupid like you're sorry." Harry sheepishly closed his lips, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red for indeed that was what he was about to do. "As if it's your fault Ron and I stopped being close." She stopped to peer around the frame of an open door, "This one's open." She tugged Harry inside one of the empty classrooms and pushed the door closed.

As Harry dug through his pocket for the mirror, Ginny imperviated the door. It wasn't that they needed to hide what they were doing, but she didn't want someone barging in halfway through when Hermione was going to be undoubtedly emotional. Ginny just hoped Ester wasn't so involved in Bjorn now that she no longer had time to be there for Hermione.

"Ready?" Harry asked, holding his wand raised, ready to tap the mirror at her nod.

Nodding, Ginny walked briskly forward and hoisted herself up on to the table so that she sat directly behind Harry who had taken a seat on one of the many benches set into neat rows.

Harry's wand made a sharp tapping sound as it made contact with the glass and the pane began to glow the familiar misty white. Ginny leaned forward to get a better look at the mirror and simultaneously placed her hand on Harry's shoulder causing a tingle of sensation to shoot down his spine and up her arm. Harry glanced back and their eyes caught. He flashed her an awkward smile just before he turned back to the mirror at the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Harry! Ginny!" She sounded surprised at seeing the both of them. "What's wrong?" Her voice lowered when she saw the frowns of concern on each of their faces. "What happened?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond but was halted by the feel of Ginny's hand squeezing his shoulder. He turned to look back at her and saw that her brow was furrowed in thought.

"Harry…maybe I should tell her alone."

"Why?" he lowered the mirror into his lap as he turned further to better face her. "I thought that we agreed we should tell her together."

"I know we did, but I changed my mind." She reached forward to extract the mirror from Harry's hand. "I think I should tell her alone."

"Tell me what?" Hermione asked sternly, her concern rising as Harry and Ginny ignored her, continuing to debate whether they should tell her together or not.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." When Ginny could stand his arguments no further, she clamped a hand over Harry's mouth and held it in place, muffling his voice as he continued to protest. "Will you shut up for a minute so I can get a word in?" Rolling her eyes she let her hand drop from Harry's mouth and turned away, lifting the pane of glass so that it was at eye level. "Hermione…I…I think Ron fancies Rane Voitekh."

Hermione's face tipped down, her hair falling in front of her eyes obscuring their view of her. "Yes. I was already aware of that."

"You were?" Harry asked with surprise. He stood so that he could look over Ginny's shoulder. "How did you find out?"

Hermione's eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to ward away her tears. "He told me, a month ago, when I brought him to my house to talk." She drew in her bottom lip and gnawed on it in what Harry thought looked like a very painful manner. "So, did Ron tell you he fancied Rane…or…"

Understanding what her friend was really asking, Ginny frowned apologetically. "Neville, Seamus and Dean caught Ron and Rane in the sixth year dorm."

"Oh." Hermione's shoulders sagged, a look of dread stealing over her features. "In his dorm room?" Ginny nodded. Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lips in a vane attempt to try and halt the next question but to her dismay found herself asking it anyway. "Do you know what they were doing?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "No one really knows what happened up there. They imperviated the room. All we know for sure was that they were on Ron's bed when Neville came to the door."

"And Ron didn't tell you what happened?" She asked almost incredulously.

"He's says there's nothing _to _tell."

"But you don't believe him."

"I do." Ginny piped in. "If Ron had snogged anyone he would have found a way to let everyone know."

"And what do you call making sure you're caught with the door sealed?" Hermione snapped bitterly.

Harry saw the flare of anger in Ginny's eyes a split second before she opened her mouth to make an angry retort, but Harry cut her off before she could make a sound. "Hermione, we just thought it would be best if you heard it from us instead of from someone else."

Feeling slightly ashamed for her outburst Hermione nodded miserably. Leaning closer to the mirror Harry saw that her chin was quivering slightly, rattling her voice when she spoke. "Is…is he reading my letters?"

Ginny started to say that she didn't know but Harry broke in with a definite "Yes. He's read everyone."

Hermione smiled vaguely. "Then I have an appointment to keep. Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

Harry and Ginny looked at each other then looked at her reflection in the glass. "No." Harry murmured. "That's it."

"I guess I'll go then."

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice was laced with concern. "Are you all right?"

Ginny's question seemed to be Hermione's breaking point for suddenly before them her dark brown eyes brimmed and tears began to slide silently down her cheeks, the quiver in her chin becoming more pronounced. She forced a smile onto her face with little success. "W…why wouldn't I be?" Her voice cracked painfully. "My best f…friend is happy, isn't he?"

"Hermione…"

"I have to go." She cut Harry off, giving her mirror a firm tap. As soon as the glass went blank she lowered it onto the smooth desk and pushed it away with shaky hands. She let her head fall with a loud thud against the hard wood and didn't even flinch with the pain of it. What was a small ache in the head after all compared to the crushing force weighing on her chest? She dug her fingers into her hair and tugged slightly. There it was then. Ron had officially moved on. She very much doubted his getting caught with Rane like that was an accident. She wouldn't be surprised if he had set it up in the hopes that if he did get caught word would get back to her.

She knew she should be angry and upset but she didn't have the heart or the energy. All she could feel was a heavy sense of loss. The possibility of Ron being anything more to her then a friend was gone. It had been gone since the day she had first sent back Pigwidgion with his letter unopened.

Hermione whipped the stream of tears away from her face, scolding herself for her naïveté. It had been stupid of her to think that her writing letters to him would make any difference. It was far too late for gestures like that. Her breath came out in a shuttered gasp as a wave of fresh pain stole over her heart. She would give anything to go back and change what she had done, to stop herself from making so many horrific, life altering mistakes.

"Get a hold of yourself, Hermione." She scolded several minutes later, wiping away the remainder of her tears, blinking her eyes quickly hoping to banish the wetness to whence it came. When her eyes were no longer blurred with salty tears she reached for the stack of parchment sitting on the top right corner of her desk and pulled the top piece toward herself while retrieving her quill and her jar of ink from the drawer.

Smoothing the parchment out before her, she dipped the quill in the jar of deep purple ink. She held the quill poised over the parchment ready to write and found that she didn't know what to say. After several minutes of staring at the blank page she set the quill to paper and penned the words _Dearest Ron,_ deciding that was as good a place to start as any.

An hour and a half later after many rewrites and several drafts she decided her letter was ready. She wanted to be certain that it was exactly like all her others. She would let Ron play his game. There was no need for him to know that she knew about him and Rane and there was even less of a need for him to realize how much it had upset her. If she and Ron were going to remain friends she needed to learn to not let the thought of him with other girls affect her.

She sealed the letter with a tap of her wand and rose to her feet. She pulled her robes tight about her as she slipped the missive into her pocket. Despite the warming spells cast on every room and the fires burning in all the grates the air was still chilly, sinking deep into the skin, making her fell chilled to the bone. Hermione shivered as she stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind her. She didn't know if it was her imagination but the school seemed cooler today then usual.

As she made her way to the school owlrey she nodded greetings to her fellow students when they called her name, but never stopped to talk. She wanted to get the letter off so that hopefully it would arrive at Hogwarts before Ron went to sleep.

Hermione pushed open the heavy door that closed off the owlrey from the rest of the school and was instantly assailed with the smell of musty straw, owl droppings and the sound of a soft giggle and the husky timber of a male voice. Hermione froze unsure if she should interrupt or come back later when the hidden couple had left. She had just decided to leave when she heard Ester's familiar voice scolding her boyfriend. "Bjorn, you can wait two minutes while I tie this on. I want to send this off before it gets too late."


	23. Jealousy and Sweet Goodnights

Chapter 23: Jealousy and Sweet Goodnights

When Harry and Ginny arrived back at the Gryffindor common room it was to find that Ron and Rane had parted ways and gone to their separate dormitories. Harry bid Ginny goodbye and watched her retreating form until it disappeared up the curve of the staircase. Sighing heavily he turned toward his own stairwell, intending on seeking silence and a few hours of solitude, when he saw a tall form with a broad chest leaning against the wall with arms crossed, face marred by a slight frown.

"Ron!" he said with surprise.

"Harry!" Ron mocked back.

Harry shifted awkwardly as the red head continued to stare at him silently. He felt as though his friend's eyes could penetrate right through his skull and see his inner thoughts. "Was there something you wanted?" he stammered, "Because if there wasn't I was thinking of going and lying down for a little while."

"Actually," Ron pushed away from the wall, straitening to his full and slightly intimidating height. "I wanted to ask you where you and Ginny disappeared to."

"Me…me and Ginny?" Harry stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Ron nodded curtly, his lips setting into a grim line. "You and Ginny."

"Don't know what you're talking about mate." Harry forced a light note into his voice as he went to clap Ron on the shoulder only to have his friend swat it away angrily.

"I don't understand why everyone thinks I'm so thick. I'm not stupid, Harry…"

"I never said you were stupid." Harry objected, affronted by the underlying accusation.

"Well you must think it if you thought I wouldn't notice you two were gone."

"Funny," Harry snorted sarcastically, "I didn't think you would notice much of anything as _involved_ as you were with Rane."

Irritation and anger flared in Ron's intense blue eyes. "What were you doing in an imperviated room with _my sister_?"

"What were you doing in an imperviated _dormitory_ with Rane Voitekh?" Harry shot back.

"That's different." Ron casually dismissed Harry's question. "Rane isn't my sister."

"And Ginny isn't mine." Harry pointed out obtusely, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"But she is mine." Ron jabbed his thumb at his chest. "I told you before. Ginny's to young to be dating anyone. Even you."

Harry rolled his emerald eyes with annoyance. "Who said I was dating her?" he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out the oblong mirror. "We were talking to Hermione and we didn't want anyone bothering us." he held the pane of glass out so that Ron could see it proper. "You can even use it to get a hold of her and ask if you don't believe me." He offered when Ron's expression remained skeptical.

Ron sneered evilly at the mirror. "No. That's all right." When the mirror was tucked safely back in Harry's pocket Ron focused on his face. His eyes were scrunched tight as he concentrated on Harry, watching for any hint of a lie. "So you don't fancy my sister then?"

Harry made a point of looking Ron straight in the eye when he truthfully answered "No. I don't fancy Ginny." He was well past that, he admitted to himself. He was fully and completely in love with her.

Having no other reason to disbelieve Harry, Ron nodded his approval. "Good, that would just be weird anyway. You and my little sister…" He gave a dramatic shutter for emphasis. "It's disgusting to even think about."

"Yeah." Harry agreed dryly, following Ron as he turned and mounted the staircase to the boy's dormitory. "Disgusting."

The two boys remained quiet for a few minutes as they climbed. Once they passed the third year dormitory Ron's voice came back at Harry. "Hermione wrote to me yesterday."

"Hermione writes to you everyday." he pointed out.

"Yeah, she does." Harry wasn't positive, but as they rounded the staircase and he saw the profile of his friends face, he thought he saw the slightest glimpse of a grin there. "She's coming home for Easter." Ron continued. "Did you know that?"

"No." Harry stared intently at Ron's back. "She didn't mention that."

There was a moment's pause and then, "She wants me to come alone and see her when she gets back."

"Really?" Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Even after…"

Ron stopped on the staircase and turned to look down at Harry. "Even after _what_?"

"Er…after wh…what happened the last time you went."

Ron's eyes narrowed as he studied Harry with curiosity. "You don't even know what we said to each other the last time I was there." Ron raised a skeptic eyebrow. "Harry, what did you and Ginny talk to Hermione about?"

"What did we talk to her about?" Harry repeated.

"Yes." Ron sighed with slight annoyance. "_What did you talk to her about_?"

Harry sighed heavily, deciding honesty would be best he said. "You."

"Me?" Ron looked surprise. "What about me?"

Harry raised his chin in a challenging pose. "Ginny and I decided it would be best if she heard about you and Rane from one of us."

Ron's brows furrowed together. "What did you tell her about me and Rane?"

"What do you think I told her?" Harry's aggravation caused his voice to rise. "I told her about what happened in the dorm."

"Why?" The intensity in his question took Harry back. "Why would you tell her that?"

"I don't know." There was a slight bite to his voice. "I guess I thought she would take it better coming from one of us instead of someone in Bulgaria."

Jaw clenched Ron moved past Harry down the staircase to the common room.

"Ron!" Harry called as he whirled about. "Where are you going?" he followed quickly after his friend.

"I don't want to discus this with Seamus, Dean or Neville around."

They reached the common room to find that there were several students sill milling about. Ron walked through the room without stopping and pushed open the portrait of the fat lady and stepped into the corridor beyond. He waited just long enough for Harry to join him before striding briskly away from the prying ears of the portraits patron. "So what exactly did you tell her?" he asked not bothering to turn around but continuing his purposeful strides. "I want details."

"We told her the truth, Ron."

"And what truth was that?" He asked, turning around to face Harry.

"That you and Rane were caught by Seamus, Dean and Neville in our dormitory, on the _bed_, _with_ the door imperviated."

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink. "Well when you say it like that it sounds like something happened."

Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. "Well something _did_ happen."

"No, Harry, it didn't. I already told you that."

"Then what _did_ happen, Ron?" the tall red head turned and began to walk a way again making Harry have to run to catch up to him. "I don't understand. If nothing happened why don't you say anything so people don't think something did?"

"Because Rane thinks it would be best if we just let it ride itself out."

Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but see the logic in that statement. "So why couldn't you tell me?" Harry stopped walking and waited for Ron to turn back around to face him. "Don't you trust me?"

"I did tell you, Harry." Ron spoke slowly as if perhaps Harry were daft. "I said nothing happened. All Rane and I wanted to do was talk."

"Why couldn't you have talked to me?" Harry felt an uneasy shift in his stomach. "We've been best mates since first year."

Ron sighed heavily. "Because Harry, there are something that are just easier to talk to a girl about."

"What about Ginny? She's a girl." Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, and my sister. It wasn't something I would have felt comfortable talking to her about either."

Harry slumped wearily against the wall. "I don't like this Ron." He looked over at his friend to find that he was watching him with a curious expression on his face. "For half of the year you avoid Rane like she's the bloody plague. And then Christmas roles around and you talk to Hermione and then suddenly she becomes your best mate."

"I never said she was my best mate." Ron objected, glaring crossly at Harry.

"Well it feels like it." Harry shouted back, pushing angrily away from the wall. "Ever since you started spending time with her it feels like you don't have time for me and Ginny anymore. You're always doing your homework with her, or spending your free time teaching her how to play Quidditch. You can't even go one meal without her and her friends tagging along."

It wasn't until that moment that Harry realized that the queasy feeling in his stomach, the one that had been settling there for the past four weeks was jealousy. He was jealous of the time that Ron spent with Rane that he could have been spending with him. He was Ron's best friend after all, he and Hermione. Not Rane. Rane hadn't been there from the very beginning like Harry had. She hadn't been through a life and death situation with him like he and Hermione did every year. Nothing should come in between a friendship like that. Nothing. Not even a pretty girl named Rane Voitekh.

As if sensing Harry's thoughts the stiffness melted out of Ron's body and he relaxed. The anger drained from his face to be replaced with a look of understanding. "I'm sorry Harry. I didn't realize me spending so much time with Rane was bothering you."

"It's not." Harry lied, turning to the side to better hide the heat of embarrassment that was rushing to the corners of his face.

"Harry," Ron nudged his best friend in the shoulder. "You always were a bad liar."

"No, I'm not." Harry turned his head slightly so that he could glare at the tall read headed boy.

"All right." Ron held his hands up in playful defensive pose. "Then I guess I just know you to well. 'Cause you can't lie to me."

Harry almost snorted for it hadn't been twenty minutes ago that he had technically told a blatant lie to Ron's face. "That must be it." He murmured barely audible.

Ron slumped against the wall, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. "I haven't been living up to my promise, have I?"

Harry looked over at Ron with confusion. It took him a moment to remember what promise Ron was referring to and when he did he felt his own wave of guilt. "No, you have." Harry tried to assure him but Ron shook his head stubbornly.

"No, I've been letting my personal problems get in the way again."

"Ron, what are friends for if not to burden with our personal problems?"

"But I have been trying." He continued as if he hadn't heard Harry, to wrapped up in his own thoughts and guilt. "I mean, I'm writing to Hermione right? I'm trying to smooth things out so that when she gets back it won't be uncomfortable for you to be around both of us. And I am going to go and see her at Easter and…"

"You are?" Harry's head snapped in his direction. "I didn't think you were going to."

"Well," Ron shrugged. "Rane thinks it's a good idea and…"

"Is that the only reason why you're going to go and see her?" Harry felt a fresh wave of jealousy wash over him. "Because Rane thinks it's a good idea?" He of course had been trying for months to get his two best friends on speaking terms to no success and here _Rane_ seemed to be able to manage it in a matter of days.

"No, I'm going to go for the reasons I told you. I'm going to try and be friends with Hermione again. To make things easier for all of us. Rane just happens to agree with me."

Harry relaxed once more. He couldn't begrudge Rane agreeing with him after all. "Ron?" Harry crossed his arms and waited for Ron to make some indication that he had heard him. "Do you want me to talk to Hermione again and explain what happened?"

Harry watched as Ron's brows furrowed in thought. "No." He finally said, drawing the word out as if he weren't entirely sure it was the answer he wanted to give. "I'll explain it to her when I see her."

"But Ron," Harry objected. "That's not for almost another three weeks."

"Two and a half."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Almost three. Why can't I just use the mirror?"

"Because," Ron said frankly, "If you did, she wouldn't believe you. She would think that you were trying to make her feel better. If she hears it from me she'll know I'm telling the truth."

"So, why don't _you _use the mirror to tell her."

"Because, I told you. I'll tell her when I see her in two weeks."

"Two and a half."

"Exactly." Ron beamed brightly, clapping Harry on the shoulder.

Despite himself Harry snorted with laughter. "You know Ron, sometimes you really are a wanker."

"You know Harry," Ron laughed. "That might be, but it hasn't stopped me with the ladies."

"Prat." Harry chuckled.

"Git."

Ron tilted his head to the side and took off down the hall back toward Gryffindor tower. Harry quickened his step until he fell into stride with Ron. It wasn't long until the reached the portrait of the fat lady and she swung open to reveal a nearly deserted common room. A group of third year girls were gathered around the fire in the chairs that Harry, Ron and Hermione normally claimed for themselves.

The two boys moved through the common room quickly and mounted the stairs, making their way once again toward their tower dormitory. When they reached their door they opened it to find Neville fast asleep, his nasally snores filling the room, and Seamus and Dean sitting at the foot of their beds, sharing a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans between them.

"Oi, Ron!" Seamus tossed a few more beans in his mouth as he talked. "Where've you been?" He reached over to his nightstand and extracted an off-white envelope from underneath a pile of wrappers. "This arrived for you a few minutes ago." He tossed the envelope at Ron who caught it against his chest.

Ron turned the envelope over and saw the familiar miniscule, precise letters of Hermione's writing. Harry watched as a gentle smile washed over his friends face as he took the letter to his bed and placed in a spot of predominance on his bedside table. Without another word to Harry or anyone else he pulled of his clothes and readied himself for the night.

He climbed under the covers and pulled the draperies around the bed, cutting him off from the rest of the room. He lay there quietly and listened to the familiar sound of Harry preparing for bed, as well as Seamus and Dean's almost nightly routine of discussing the day's gossip. Ron wasn't sure if he should be annoyed when the conversation worked its way around to him and Rane and the events of the night before. But decided in the end not to let it bother him. What he really wanted was for everyone to go to sleep so that he could read Hermione's letter undisturbed, and telling Dean and Seamus off for be gossiping blighters would only delay that.

So Ron lay quietly in his bed until the conversation had died down into nothing and the lights had been extinguished. When Dean and Seamus's heavy breathing joined in with Neville and Harry's he felt it was safe to reach out of his curtain and snatch up the letter and his wand from the night stand.

He made certain the curtains were pulled tight before he muttered, "_Lumos_" and enough light emitted from the tip of his wand so that he could read.

He tore open the seal hastily and pulled the sheaf of parchment from within its envelope.

_My Dearest Ron, _It began, _I couldn't help but think of you today, but then I can't help but think of you everyday. But today I thought of you because of something I saw. I was walking down the hall, I was going to meet Ester, Bjorn, Maj, Thora, and Yorick in our usual study room, when I passed by the charms classroom. Inside were a group of first years practicing Wingardium Leaviosa. They weren't having very good luck at it. They were trying to levitate a feather and couldn't manage to make one hair rise off the table. In his aggravation of the boys, someone who surprisingly looks a lot like Harry, shouted the words and flicked his wand a little to fiercely and managed to make a book lying on anther table soar into the air. In his surprise he let his wand drop and the book came crashing down on his friends head, knocking him out cold. I know it was horrible of me to laugh, but I knew it was something that you would have found amusing. Besides, it made me think of that night in the girl's lavatory when you saved me from the troll. Do you remember that? What a foolish question. Of course you do. That was the night we became friends after all._

_I talked to Harry and Ginny today. I don't know how I could have forgotten, but I failed to mention to them that I am coming home for Easter. Do you think you could pass the message along for me? I suppose I could write them a letter myself but you already know and you're there…_

_Well, there really isn't much else that's new since I last wrote yesterday. End of year exams are coming and students have begun revising. It's such a pleasure to be around students who take revising and examinations as seriously as I do. However, and I can't believe I'm actually writing this, you're never going to let me live it down, I miss you distracting me. It's quiet tedious to do nothing except revising and writing essays. For once I wish that Maj, or Ester or even Yorick would challenge me in an impromptu game of Chess, or maybe Exploding Snap. Honestly, I miss your attempts at procrastination. At least then I was forced to put my studies aside and relax once in a while._

_Would you look at the time? I have no idea how it became this late. But I really ought to be getting to bed. I have double Charms early tomorrow morning, and I daresay by the time you get this it will be rather late. I'll bid you goodnight and pleasant dreams then. So, until my next letter…_

_I love you and I miss you,_

_Hermione._

Ron reread the letter twice more before he swung around onto his stomach so that his head hung over the side of the bed. He pulled a box out from underneath, lifted the lid and slipped her newest letter in on top of the rest. He slid the lid securely into place before pushing the box back under his bead and swinging back around so that he was lying on his back. "Nox." He whispered and the light from the tip of his wand went out. He dropped it on his table before lying back, hands folded under his head, staring up at the canopy above.

Hermione's letter had been very curious. He had expected at least some mention to the rumor that was going about, but it was surprisingly devoid of any hint that she knew anything of what Harry and Ginny had told her. Her letter was very similar to all the letters that she had sent him previously. The only real difference, and he wasn't sure Hermione had even noticed it, but he certainly had, was that she ended the letter with _I love you…_Normally she ended with a simple your Hermione, always Hermione and sometimes, love Hermione. But not I love you.

"_I love you and I miss you_." He repeated to himself and was surprised to feel a sense of warmth and calm steel over his body, making him drowsy and his eyes heavy. He settled back into the mattress, plumping the pillow behind his head, before turning over onto his side. His last coherent thought before slipping into the welcoming embrace of sleep was that despite what he said four weeks ago and what Harry and Ginny had told her today, Hermione still loved him.


	24. Face to Face Once Again

Chapter 24: Face to Face Once Again

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you, Ron?" Harry offered, a forcefully light note in his voice. "You might need someone to act as a mediator between you and Hermione."

Ron frowned un-approvingly at his friend as he continued to pace the length of the deserted common room, periodically running his fingers through his hair. He was well aware that Harry's comment was not entirely in jest. He knew his friend was worried that Ron might say something else that would bring Hermione to tears and he wanted to be there to make certain that it didn't have a chance to happen again.

Ron ignored Harry however as he continued mutter to himself incoherently about nothing that made any sense to Harry. Something about hands and lines and how absurd they were. Ron had been this way for days now, his mood constantly shifting between excitement and dread. making it difficult for Harry and Ginny, the only other two Gryffindors their age to stay over Easter holiday, to be around him.

He found himself thinking about the talk he had with Rane more and more often, accounting for the strange mutterings Ginny and Harry were constantly overhearing, as the time to see Hermione drew closer. He still wasn't entirely certain that Rane was right about what she read in his palm. Like Hermione was likely to say, divination was a very wooly discipline, whether the diviner was gypsy or not. The only thing that he was certain of was that Hermione had been true to her word and had written to him every day for the past two months. He now knew as much about her and her time in Bulgaria as he would have if he had actually been there with her. Each time he read one of her letters he could almost forget everything else that had happened. All the hurt feelings and painful exchanges between them. Almost. Then someone would say something that would remind him and force him to remember. It was all so confusing and frustrating and his emotions were constantly swooping in proverbially rollercoaster. He didn't know what to think anymore.

And his confusion had only grown worse when Ginny had let it slip two days earlier when he had asked about Harry's seemingly short temper as of late, that Hermione had cried when she and Harry had told her about what had happened with him and Rane. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about that. A part of him felt guilty of course for making her cry. He always felt guilty when Hermione cried, accounting for why he was so awkward around her when she did. Another part of him however was thrilled that she cared enough _to_ cry. And then there was that third, small part of him that he was ashamed of. That small part that felt a bit of perverse pleasure in knowing that she now knew how he felt when he had learned about her and Bjorn.

Harry sighed heavily. "Ron, will you relax." His exasperated voice drawing Ron back to the present. "It's just Hermione. It's not like you're about to face the entire Wizengamot, is it?" when this seemed to make no affect on Ron's frayed nerves Harry pushed himself out of his seat and forced Ron to stop his pacing to look at him. "I can't believe I'm telling you this, or maybe I can," Harry shook his head randomly, "I don't know anymore. But Ron, you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"What?" Ron's eyes bugged slightly. "Was is it just my imagination, or was it not you who has been trying for months to get me and Hermione to talk?"

"No," Harry sighed. "That was me. But if you going to see her is going to cause more harm then good…"

"For me or her?"

"For both of you." Harry insisted, "Then I don't want you to go." He shook his head sadly. "You're my best mate Ron, and I know this has been hard on you. On the both of you. So if you going to see her is going to make things worse or be to much for you to handle, then I don't want you to go."

Ron opened his mouth to comment when the clock standing across the common room struck the hour. Ron reached inside his pocket and pulled out a sheet of parchment. He tapped the page against his open palm smartly. "I have an appointment to keep." He unfolded the parchment to search for the line that would act as his portkey.

"Ron," Harry placed a hand over the parchment to block his vision. The red head glanced up at his friend, his brow arched questioningly.

"Please don't make her cry again." Harry's face softened dramatically as he let his hand drop. "I hate watching her cry. She's so strong and level headed most of the time that when she does…it's really rather scary."

Ron felt a fresh pang of guilt in his stomach but he quickly pushed it away. He was finished with feeling guilty. They had both made their apologies and they had both forgiven the other, it was in the past now and that is where it should remain if they had any hopes of being…friends.

Not bothering to give Harry an answer he found his place and read the portkeyed line. He felt the familiar sensation of the tug behind his naval followed by the awareness of his body spinning and tumbling madly through open space, stomach lurching from side to side inside him, churning the contents until he was ready to wretch. When he thought he couldn't stand the random movements a moment longer he felt himself drop out of the air. Anticipating his landing surface he just managed to turn over so that his backside made contact with the mattress instead of his face. He bounced twice on the soft surface before his body came to a full stop.

Brushing the wrinkles free of his robes Ron swung his legs over the side of the bed before tucking the letter safely in his pocket. After a quick glance around the room he determined Hermione was not in it and it was only then the sound of running water registered in his mind. Brows scrunched, he ducked his head to check his watch. The hands read two minutes after five. He wasn't early and Hermione was still in the shower. Ron's eyes twinkled with delight. It was 5:02 and Hermione was still in the shower. That meant she was running late. Hermione Jane Granger was actually running late. A wave of joy washed over him and a broad smile lit his face. He didn't understand why something as petty and insignificant as her running late brought him such joy, but in that moment it didn't matter. For only the second time to his knowledge she was running late.

Feeling bored, Ron took the opportunity Hermione's absence presented to examine her room more thoroughly. He hadn't had much of a chance the last time he was there due to the shock or his sudden transportation and seeing Hermione here in London, a place she wasn't suppose to be for another few months, and the fact that most of the room had been bathed it darkness. Now immersed in the bright light of early evening it wasn't much different then he remembered.

The bed coverings were still a cheery butter yellow, matching the four walls perfectly. Turning in a slow circle, he noticed for the first time that her room had a hardwood floor polished to a bright shine with a welcoming throw rug spread in the center to offer warmth in the winter and a comfortable place to lie and read during the summer. Her book shelves were just as crammed with books as before, but now that there was full light in the room he was better able to read the titles on the shelf closest to her bed. He was surprised by what he found. Hermione had quiet an eclectic taste in books.

There was a wide variety of stories and genres filling the bookcase, falling anywhere between _The Brother's Karamazov _to works by a bloke named _Plato, _who ever he was, as well as several collections of fairytales, mystery stories including several titled, _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_, and horror stories. The book _Jane Eyre _sat beside another titled _Frankenstein._ She had a small section on mythology from different parts of the world and an entire shelf dedicated to a playwright by the name of William Shakespeare.

Growing board with her book case he moved to her desk where there was yet another stack of books but this time he found that he could not read the titles for there were in an entirely different language, he assumed Bulgarian as the top book looked like it might be a Transfiguration text. Sitting beside the stack of books were several rolls or parchment, some of them blank and some of them filled. He recognized Hermione's handwriting but once again found that the only words he could read on the page were those that made up her name. Sitting off to the side was a mound of quills, all of them warn down to the nub and in desperate need of sharpening.

Ron reached for the top most quill and the sharpener lying near by, intending on sharpening the points for her while he waited, when something sitting in a small dish at the top of her desk in the center caught his eye. He set the quill back where he found it and reached instead for the ball of spun glass that looked extremely similar to the prophesy they had tried to retrieve last year in the department of mysteries. He brought it close to his face and through the light spilling in from the window he saw that there was a small object suspended inside. He brought it up to his ear and shook it slightly. The small object made a pinging sound as it clanged against the fragile glass.

"Be careful!" Hermione cried, appearing suddenly in the room and rushing forward to take the spun ball out of his hand. "You do not want to break that."

"Why?" Ron asked as he watched her set the ball gingerly back in its dish. "What is it?"

"An emergency portkey." She explained pushing wet strands of hair out of hre face. "Dumbledore made it so that if Harry needed me I had a way to get home."

"Oh," Ron said with understanding as he turned to better face her. He froze in place, his blue eyes bulging slightly. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing but when he did his mouth gaped open and his eyes grew to the size of teacups.

Hermione Jane Granger, the acknowledge prude of Gryffindor, was standing before him dressed in nothing but a fluffy, pink dressing robe. Before he realized what he was doing his eyes were traveling appreciatively down the length of her body comparing what he saw now to what he remembered and committing the new image to memory.

He was delighted to find that her hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders, tiny wisps of it framing her face and curling tantalizingly under her eyes. The front of her dressing robe gaped open enough to reveal the expanse of smooth, white skin of her chest and the slight swell of her breasts. The pink robe was shorter on her then it had been the last time he had seen her wear it and it now hung to just above her knees, leaving the rest of her legs exposed to his sight. For the first time in his memory he saw the creamy white skin of her calf and ankles; they were usually covered by either her school stockings or trouser legs, and found that they were quite shapely and attractive.

Ron could have continued staring at her for hours but was brought abruptly back to reality with the sound of an amused little couch coming from the object of his attention. His ears went pink with the realization that Hermione knew exactly what he had been doing and undoubtedly what he had been thinking.

Feeling the heat spread from his ears to his face he forced an angry look, hoping it would explain away his rosy color, and barked. "For Merlin's sake, Hermione. Would you put some bloody clothes on?"

Hermione couldn't help but beam with pleasure when she saw the uncomfortable manner in which Ron shifted from foot to foot. She crossed her arms over her stomach, copying a move she had seen Maj use many times on Yorick, and tilted her head playfully to the side. "You're early." She said lightly, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"No." Ron forced himself to look away knowing that if he didn't he would only succeed in embarrassing himself further. "_You're_ late. You said to be here at five. It's now…" he glanced down at his watch, "twenty-eight after."

"It is?" Hermione asked genuinely surprised. She reached forward and took hold of Ron's wrist, turning it so that she could look at the time. She cursed silently under her breath. "I didn't forget to turn the time back." She looked up into his questioning blue eyes and explained. "I've been so frazzled as of late and I couldn't remember if I turned my watch back to England's time or not." She reached around him to pick her own wristwatch up from the desk and show it to him. "I was going off of Durmstrang time not London. I thought I sill had two hours."

Ron shifted uncomfortably out of the way as Hermione leaned around him once again to put the watch back on her desk before turning and walking briskly to her dresser pushed up against the far wall. "Wait here while I go and change." She commanded as she pulled out a few appropriate garments before shoving the drawer shut. "I'll only be a moment." She assured him as she slipped out the door and into the hallway, presumably to go and change in the lavatory.

A few minutes later she was back, this time dressed in a pair of grey trousers, a soft, pink jumper, and white wooly socks. Her hair was dried and Ron was thrilled to see that while not back to its formal glory, she had simply dried it without taking the time to use magic and form precise curls.

"You're letting your hair grow out." He said observantly.

"Yes," she said mischievously, running her fingers through the mahogany strands. "I decided I didn't have enough time to bother with curling it. Besides," she shrugged a dainty shoulder. "Someone once told me they preferred my hair better the way it was." As she spoke her cheeks stained a shade of red to challenge the Weasley's.

"Right." Ron shifted from one foot to the other. He wasn't sure what to make of Hermione today. Of all the things he expected when coming here, he hadn't expected to find her to be so happy and comfortable with him or to be, dare he think it, flirting with him. And she was flirting, he was almost certain of that. He just wasn't as certain as to why. Ginny said and Harry confirmed, albeit reluctantly, that Hermione had cried when they told her about the rumors concerning him and Rane. If he were to go on her behavior of the moment he would have to conclude that his supposed escapade with Rane was either the farthest thing from her mind or that she simply didn't care. What ever her reasons were he decided that despite his confusion, he quiet liked her this way, relaxed and playful.

"So I was thinking," Hermione turned and walked the few short steps to her bed and sat down, "that after we talk you could join me and my parents for an authentic, Muggle dinner. I thought perhaps you could take notes so that when you next see your dad you can give him a synopsis with vivid details." Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she looked at him. "He would like that I suspect. What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Hermione nodded agreeably. "I think you're acting very strange." He said very bluntly.

"What do you mean?" She gave an almost convincing presentation of someone confused.

"You can stop with the act Hermione. Ginny told me you cried when they told you."

The curly haired girl instantly sobered, her eyes scowling at an item over his left shoulder, tempting him to turn and look at the object of her contempt, as her spine stiffened. "Apparently Ginny needs to learn to keep her mouth shut."

"No," Ron disagreed. "I'm glad she did tell me, otherwise I wouldn't know why Harry is still made at me and I wouldn't have known that I hurt you." Through the strands of his fiery red hair she saw that the tips of his ears had gone quiet pink. "I am sorry Hermione. When I followed Rane up to that dorm room my intention was not to hurt you."

"Oh," she bit the corner of her lip with her front teeth. "Thank you for that." She looked away from his eyes to her hands which she held clenched in her lap. After a minute she asked. "Do you mind me asking why you did follow her up there?"

Ron debated for a minute telling her. He didn't owe her any explanation, but something in her posture spoke of vulnerability and Ron felt himself responding to it. Blushing sheepishly he turned and looked out the window. "Rane just wanted to talk somewhere where we didn't have to worry about being overheard."

Hermione nodded with consideration. "I can understand that. What with people like Seamus and Dean around… But Ron," she paused to gnaw on her lip. "The next time you want to talk to a girl alone you might want to think about finding a different venue. The boy's dormitory?" Her eyebrows lifted pointedly, "No wonder Seamus, Dean and Neville came to the conclusion that they did."

"Yeah," he could feel heat spreading to all visible areas of skin, making his freckles indiscernible on his flesh.

"Ron," she began tentatively, "As a mater of interest, what were you and Rane talking about? Up in the dormitory." She clarified.

Ron sighed, his head shaking from side to side, causing his hair to fall in front of his eyes. "I don't even know why I'm even thinking of telling you this." He muttered as he turned away from the window to face her once again. "It's foolish really. You tell me all the time that you think Divination is a useless and unreliable field of study."

Hermione's eyes widened with understanding. "Oh, of course. That makes perfect sense." She bent forward and propped her chin on her fist. "So what method did she use?" Ron could tell her curiosity had been piqued. "Tarot cards? Tea leaves? I highly doubt it was the crystal ball."

"She read my palm." He responded instantly. "Wait. How did you know…"

"That Rane's a gypsy?" she provided helpfully.

"Yeah." Ron agreed. "Did Ester tell you?"

Hermione scrunched her face as she tossed her head from side to side undiscernibly. "In a manner of speaking. I had to confront her about it before she admitted to it." Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. "I can't believe how long it took me to figure that one out. The signs were in front of me all the time and I…I just didn't see them."

"The signs?" Ron asked curiously.

"Yes." Hermione rose from the bed and flounced over to the desk, moved aside the stack of parchments and hoisted herself up to sit in the place she had made. "From the moment I first met her I knew there was something special about her. She knew things about me, things she shouldn't possibly have known, and she learned them from simply looking at me. She calmed me and made me feel relaxed in her presences, enough to open myself to her and pour out bits of my soul."

Ron leaned back, resting his hip against the edge of the desk, his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms wrapped comfortably around his chest. Now that she mentioned it, Ron had noticed some of the same things about Rane, though he had never given it a second thought. He had simply taken it for granted that she was able to do these things.

"Ester always knows what to say to me," Hermione continued. "Sometimes, whether I want to hear it or not. And there are times when she knows what you're going to say before you have a chance to say it, or she knows what you're thinking while you're thinking it." Ron watched as Hermione swung her legs gracefully back and forth out of sight under her desk then into sight in front of her, ankles crossed similarly to his.

"I asked her once how she was able to do it and at first when she answered I thought she was joking." She looked up at Ron. "She said magic." Hermione clarified. "I thought she was just being cheeky. It wasn't until some time later when I got to know her better that I realized perhaps she really was telling the truth. Maybe magic really was the reason she was able to do what she did. So I started doing my research."

"And you discovered that she was a gypsy." Ron finished.

"Yes, but it took me some time." She picked at her pants absently, with her head tilted to the side, obscuring Ron's view of her face. "There are surprisingly few books on gypsy's, even in the Durmstrang library. And my first instinct wasn't even to look for information on gypsies, it was to look for information on empaths. I was going through this incredibly long and dreary tome on the Empath, I'm still not certain how the author managed that because Empaths really are fascinating, but the point is I was almost to the end of the book when he mentioned briefly that gypsies were said to hold different forms of empathy, but that because the gypsies as a people kept their secrets to themselves it was impossible to confirm this."

"So that's when you went looking for books on the gypsy." Ron said with understanding.

"Exactly." Hermione agreed. "I took out every book the library had on the subject, which is a copy of every book written about them in existence. Do you know how many there were?" She didn't wait for him to hazard a guess. "Five! Five books in total, and all of them filled with rubbish according to Ester."

Ron listened intently as Hermione continued to regale him with the information she had learned about the gypsy nation and to his surprise found himself interested in what she had learned for probably the first time since he had known her.

"Did you know that the gypsy magic only manifests itself in females? It's really very interesting. There are male gypsies. They travel with their mothers and wives and daughters, but they will never be able to perform gypsy magic. And let's say that a gypsy male decides to marry outside the caravan, which many of them apparently actually do. Ester says that it's even encouraged. You know it keeps fresh blood among the people." Hermione paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "You know, regular witches and wizards could learn a few things from them, don't you think?

"Sure." Ron agreed readily.

"Anyway," Hermione waved her hand dismissing her own question. "His children will inherit the magic of the gypsies, even the sons, who will be able to pass it on to their off spring. But like I said, only the females will be able to manifest the active powers."

"That's very interesting, Hermione." Ron broke in when she stopped to take a breath, "And I really would like to hear more about it…but did you really ask me to come here just so that we could discuss the powers of the gypsies?"

"No," Hermione hung her head so that she wasn't forced to look at him. "I didn't bring you here just for that reason. I just…" she looked up at him once again, a determined set to her chin. "We're supposed to be friends, aren't we? And isn't this the kind of thing friends do? Talk about their interests and share the things they find fascinating?"

"Well," Ron scrunched his brow a moment in thought. "I guess so."

"Look Ron," Hermione hopped down from her perch on the desk and went to stand before him. It wasn't until that moment when she was standing so close he would only have to move his hand a little to reach out and touch her that he noticed how much she had grown since Christmas. She was taller, her head coming to a stop at the top of his chest.

"I know you said that you needed time and that I have to earn your trust again." Her words snapped him back to the moment. "And I understand that. I really do. But what I want more then anything is to be your friend again. I know I've made horrible mistakes," she ducked her head and locked her eyes on the tips of her sock clad toes, "and I don't really deserve your forgiveness, but I'm going to ask you for it anyway."

"Hermione," Ron reached out and tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "You asked me for my forgiveness the last time we saw each other and I gave it to you." He shook his head slightly. "You don't have to ask me again."

Hermione licked her lips which had suddenly gone dry and blinked several times up at Ron. He was still holding her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and heat was radiating from that spot to the far corners of her body. "Ron," she asked tentatively. "Do you think…could you possibly ever…what I mean is…" she took a calming breath. "Do you think you could possibly forget what a horribly wretched idiot I've been and start over?"

His hand fell away to land by his side. "Hermione…"

"Do you know how much I hate what I have done to you?" Her question took him back. Tears glistened in her eyes as she smiled sadly at him. "I miss my old Ron. I miss the boy who would stand up for me no matter what. The one who could effortlessly make me laugh by the ridicules things he allowed to come out of his mouth." Her voice caught painfully in her throat as more tears welled behind her eyes and threatened to fall silently down her cheek.

Ron felt a painful tightening in his chest. "Hermione, please don't cry." He pleaded, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb that managed to work its way out. "I hate it when you cry."

"But mostly," she continued, determined to have her say, "I miss the boy who believed in such things as the One and Only, even if he would never admit it." She reached out and placed her hand tentatively on the wrist of his hand still holding her chin. "Please tell me he hasn't gone forever."

"Hermione I…" Ron was cut off by the sound of the front doorbell ringing piercingly through the house.

Hermione instinctively turned toward the sound breaking the hold he had on her. Her eyes furrowed in inquisitiveness. "I wonder who that could possibly be." She took a step towards her door, curious to see who could be calling this close to meal time. She stopped herself however before she took her second step. Who ever it was it couldn't possibly be for her. The rest of her family wasn't coming to visit until Sunday, Easter morning, and she was going to go and see her friends at Grimmuald Place for a few days before she left, so they wouldn't be here. And none of her neighbors knew she was home as of yet, so they wouldn't be calling for her either. The only conclusion she could draw was that it was a friend of her parents and seeing as for the moment they were expecting Ron to stay for dinner they would be making excuses and ushering them hastily to the door.

Hermione shook her head as she looked back at Ron. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying…" but before he could finish there was a roar of sound from the floor below, instantly drowning him out. There was the loud thud of something being thrown against the wall fallowed by the shattering of glass and the smashing of wood. And then came the blood curdling sound of a woman screaming in agony.

"Mum!" Hermione spun on her heel, fear mounting in her chest. She raced for the door, grasping madly for the handle, unable to find it in her unexplainable terror. Her fingers had just encircled the silver knob when Ron's hand clamped around hers, halting her from opening the door.

She looked up at him widely, unable to comprehend why he wasn't letting her go to her mother. Then she found the answer for her unprovoked panic there in his eyes. He had realized before she had. He needn't have spoken, she knew as well as he did.

"Death Eaters." He whispered, reaching inside his robes for his wand, thankful he had had the forethought to bring it with, not that he went anywhere without it these days.

Hermione pulled her hand free of Ron's and ran back across the room to where her wand sat harmlessly on her bedside table. She rushed back to him, her eyes never leaving his. Her heart was racing madly with panic. She couldn't think straight. Her mother was still screaming. Images of her withering in agony on the floor flooded Hermione's brain making it impossible to think. In desperation she looked to Ron and found there what she need. Understanding the look in his eyes, she nodded her agreement and stepped in behind him as he made to open the door. It was at that moment that Mr. Granger's scream of agony joined his wife's.


	25. The Portkey

Chapter 25: The Portkey

"Dad." Hermione lurched instantly toward the door at the sound of her father's anguished scream, but was stopped by Ron who put a restraining arm around her waist and pulled her back away from the door. "Let me go." She struggled in his arms, beating her fists against his arm. "They have my mum and dad." She cried. "I have to help them."

"Hermione wait." He clapped a hand over her mouth, forcing her to remain silent and still against him. "You can't just go bursting out there." He said into her ear with hushed tones. "You won't be any help to your mum and dad if you're caught." Understanding the truth in his words she nodded her head unsteadily, her breath shaky and erratic against his palm. When he knew she wasn't going to struggle or cry out his arms began to loosen their hold on her. "All right." He murmured, lowering his hand slowly away from her face ready to throw it back into place if she spoke to loud again. When she remained quiet he let it drop all the way. His arm slinked free of her waist and he waited for her to turn and face him. Their eyes caught and they stared wordlessly at each other. He saw the comprehension in her eyes when he tilted his head to the side and was pleased to see her nod of agreement before he slowly turned to face her closed door.

"Silencio." He waved his wand at the wood panel, making certain it would not squeak when they opened it. He turned the handle to ease it from its cradle and was relieved when the door eased noiselessly opened. The relief was short lived however, as the silenced door had stood as a barrier between them and the activities downstairs. With the door now opened their ears were once again assailed by the anguished screams of Hermione's parents as they were being tortured.

Instinctually Hermione's hand found its way to Ron's back and settled there. Ron glanced back at her but did not object. He understood she needed the contact for both comfort and stability. He took a measured step forward and eased his head into the hall. He looked first right then left then over his shoulder at Hermione. Knowing what he was asking she tilted her head to the side, indicating that their path was to the right. Ron nodded then took another step out into the hall, pressing himself up against the wall as he went.

Ron could feel Hermione's entire body trembling through her fingertips as they slowly made their way down the hall. Their pace deliberately measured so as to cause little noise. Ron made sure that he made no sudden movements so that Hermione's hand could remain firmly on his back, acting as her anchor. The far they moved the more labored Hermione's breath became as she struggled to remain under control, fighting the need to rush to her parent's side.

They came to the spot where the hallway ended and the landing began. Ron held out a halting hand and Hermione stopped, taking a cautious step back out of sight. Ron eased his way to the end of the wall and peeked his head around the corner.

Standing in the foyer below were six Death Eaters grouped in a circle around the huddled forms of Hermione's parents. Somewhere it registered in the back of Ron's mind that the window framing the door was shattered, the glass scattered in a large arc across the wood paneled floor. The table that usually sat pushed up against the wall adorned with a lamp and several picture frames lay in splinters on the floor, some of the shards imbedded deep in the wall, the lamp and frames in pieces on the floor. Most or the photos had been knocked off the wall, presumably by a body being slammed into it repeatedly.

Finally Ron let his eyes settle on the Grangers. Blood was running from an open gash in Mr. Granger's brow into his eyes, obscuring his vision. There was another slash across his cheek and down the length of his arm where Ron could still see a shard of glass impaled deep in his flesh. Despite this he was glaring bravely at his captor; a skinny, pale boy with white blond hair who had his wand trained on the crouched man's heart.

Draco Malfoy's comrades, Vincent Crabe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and two other fully grown Death Eater's who Ron could not identify for they were hooded and their backs were to him, laughed vindictively as he gave his wand a precise flick, muttering a spell that Ron couldn't hear from where he stood. The red head watched horrified as Mr. Granger was lifted bodily off the ground, separating him from his wife. She screamed with anguish as she watched her husband be slammed painfully against first one wall and then another like a pinball knocking framed from the wall, littering the floor and his back with more chunk of jaded glass. With each impact his body made a jarring thud causing Ron to cringe himself. When he made contact with the final wall they heard the distinct sound of ribs creaking with the force of the blow.

Draco dropped his wheezing victim on the floor to the sound of ruckus approval. With racking sobs Mrs. Granger crawled to her husband and wrapped her arms gingerly around him, rocking slightly back and forth in an attempt to comfort.

"Now," Draco's cold, malicious voice rose over the sound of the other five's jeers. "I'll ask you again Muggle. Where is your filthy Mudblood of a daughter?"

Ron watched as Mr. Granger lifted his chin in the same defiant manner he had seen Hermione use hundreds of times before. "Go to hell." He spat at Draco's feet.

"Draco," Ron instantly recognized the sound of Luscious Malfoy's voice. "Are you going to allow such treatment from a filthy Muggle?" His voice was filled with with loathing and disgust.

The blond boy forced his chin into a defiant pose. "No father." Ron wasn't sure but he thought he heard a slight stammer in the other boy's voice. He lifted his wand hand and once again trained it at Mr. Granger's prone body. "Crucio."

Ron closed his eyes from the terrible sight of Mr. Granger's body bowing off the ground in agony. Hermione lurched towards the steps at the sound of her father's anguished screams and Ron had to fling out his arm and hold her back against the wall. For several tormenting seconds the curse remained upon him and Ron had to restrain Hermione against the wall. Finally the curse lifted and Mr. Granger stopped screaming.

"How about now?" Draco asked, his wand still trained on his victim. "Where is she?"

When he remained stubbornly quiet Luscious lifted his white brow, "Perhaps Draco, torturing him is not the right avenue to pursue." He trained his cold grey eyes on Hermione's mother who cringed away in fear while still trying to protect her husbands body. "Perhaps we could use the female to make him talk." His voice lifted as if he had had a pleasant thought. "Or perhaps she's of weaker constitution then her husband and we can make her talk."

"Excellent." Draco turned his wand off Mr. Granger and onto his next victim, his eyes gleaming with renewed joy.

Beside him Ron could feel Hermione stiffen as she prepared for the tormenting sounds of her mother's agonized screams. When they came she scrunched her eyes and tucked her face into Ron's back, trying to fight the over whelming need to go to her mother, to save her. It was a battle she lost. When she pushed at Ron's back, trying to force him out of the way so she could reach the stairs he pushed her back against the wall, holding her still and covering her mouth as he too tried to ignore the anguished sounds of the tormented woman.

"Mione." He spoke quietly, trying desperately not to alert the Death Eaters to their presences. "Mione," he tried again when she continued to stare through him with terror filled eyes, her focus solely on the scene downstairs where her parents were being held captive. "Mione," he said a third time, giving her shoulders a slight shake, causing her to look and finally see him. "I need you to stay here." He said slow and deliberate, wanting to make certain that she clearly understood him.

"What?" she asked, her eyes blinking with confusion.

"I need you to stay here while I go for your parents."

"What?" She asked again, her eyes spread with alarm as his words finally registered in her brain. "Are you mad?" She asked in a harsh whisper. "You can't go down there alone."

"Mione," he gave her shoulders what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. "I have to. And you need to stay here."

"No." She said stubbornly, her anger freeing her off the terror that had made her almost immobile a few moments ago. "You're not facing Death Eaters alone." She raised her chin obstinately. "I'm coming with you."

"No." he said forcefully, his fingers inadvertently tightening on her shoulders. "You need to stay here while I go for them."

"They're _my _parents." She objected. "I should be…"

"Mione, there's no time to argue." His hands left her shoulders to cup her face, tilting her head up and forcing her to look into his eyes, begging her to understand. "I need you to stay here so that I can bring your parents to you." He held her chin still when she tried to shake it in objection. "When I bring your parents to you I _need_ you to bring them to your room and use the portkey Dumbledore gave you to get them out. Do you understand?"

"Yes. But…"

"No buts." His eyes held her captive. "I need you to trust me."

She stared open mouthed into his eyes. His blue orbs had a calming affect on her nerves and a wave of trust and comfort washed over her as she gazed into them. Understanding what he was asking of her she gave her head a short nod. "All right, Ron." She placed her cold trembling hand against his. "I trust you."

He smiled his thanks, his hands lingering on the softness of her cheek a moment longer. The renewed screams of Mrs. Granger broke them out of their trance. Ron's hands dropped away and he stepped back. "Mione." He thrust his hand into his pocket and extracted a plain ring that he slipped on his right hand, giving it a tap with his wand. "You need to stay on this side of the wall." He pulled another ring out of his other pocket and slipped it on his left hand. "If you look around the corner you will be temporarily blinded and I need you to be able to see so that you can lead your parents to safety. Do you understand?"

"Yes." She nodded, the quiver in her voice exposing her terror and nervousness.

He patted down his pockets as he turned away. "Good. I'll be right back." And he slipped past her onto the landing and out of sight.

"Oi!" Ron was half way down the stairs before Crabbe, who was facing his direction saw him coming. "Look who we have here." The other five Death Eaters diverted their eyes from the amusement that was Draco torturing Mrs. Granger to see what had caught his attention.

"Weasel King." Draco's smile was a sneer of cruel delight. "I wasn't expecting to find you here. But the more the merrier right?" He tilted his head mockingly to the side in a pose that suggested avid curiosity and consideration. "Does this mean that you and the Mudblood are together now? Disgusting." He sneered with revulsion at Ron. "How can you stand being a Blood traitor. You should be proud of your bloodline."

He turned away from Ron and craned his neck to see over the tall red head's shoulder. "Where is your filthy Mudblood anyway?" He turned his eyes back on Ron. "I'm surprised she would let you take on six Death Eaters by your self." Ron heard Hermione gasp from the top of the staircase and was thankful that the others seemed unable to hear her. "So where is she?" Draco continued. "She can't be that far away if you're here."

Swallowing the lump of fear that had suddenly rose in his throat, Ron wordlessly used his thumb to turn the gem of the ring on his left hand. There was a sudden flash of bright light followed by the helpless cries of the Death Eaters and their victims as they were blinded by the severe light. When the intense beam died away leaving Ron able to see, it showed the sixth Death Eaters thrashing around blindly, trying to protect their eyes from the harsh light emanating from the ring.

Without hesitating Ron ran forward, removing the obstacle of one of the staggering Death Eaters by binding him in magical ropes. Unable to move, the man fell forward onto his face with a loud crash, leaving a path open to the Grangers. Ron ran to the huddled couple who were similarly trying to protect their eyes from the extremely painful light. Ron placed a hand on Mr. Granger's shoulder only to have him tear it away in fright.

"Mr. Granger." Ron said quietly placing his hand once again on the older mans shoulder. "It's me."

Mr. Granger turned his head toward the sound of Ron's voice. He no longer tried to pull away but kept his eyes closed and his hand up to block the glaring light. "Ronald?" he asked uncertainly. "Is that you?"

"Yes." Ron slid his hand under the other man's arm and pulled, trying to draw him to his feet, bringing Mrs. Granger, who was clutching her husbands arm to her feet as well. "I'm going to get you out of here." Fortunately he remained unheard by the Death Eaters who were shouting and cursing as they ran into each other. Ron wrapped Mr. Granger's hand around his wrist. "Do not let go." He instructed, taking his first step towards the stairs.

Doing as the teenager had instructed Mr. Granger clutched onto his arm with an ironclad grip. Ron didn't think anything short of death would force the older man to let go of his arm. This was fine with him though. He preferred not having to worry whether or not he would loose the Grangers in their retreat.

One of the cloaked figures, Ron wasn't certain in the confused chaos which one, must have realized what was about and had shouted for his fellows to search for their intended victims. It now became more precarious and dangerous for Ron to lead the blind adults through the grasping, flailing arms of the Death Eaters, for at any moment he was certain one of them would be hit and they would be caught.

Ron and Mr. Granger both managed to step over the body still lying bound on the floor, but Mrs. Granger caught her foot and stumbled into her husband crying out in surprise and alerting the masked group to their location. Cursing under his breath Ron hurried his steps as the remaining Death Eaters blundered blindly after them. They were only a few steps away from the staircase now and Ron's heart lifted. He was certain they were going to make it.

He had just set his foot on the first step when his ring gave the first warning flicker, indicating that the protective light was about to go out. It was at that exact moment that Goyle managed to latch onto Mrs. Granger's arm, causing her to scream in terror. Ron spun around, his wand in hand. "Rictasempra." And the beefy boy flew back several feet, taking down a few of his friends with him.

The ring gave another warning flicker. "Run!" He shouted, pushing first Mr. Granger then Mrs. Granger toward the stairs. "Hermione's waiting at the top. She'll get you out of here! Go!" he shouted when the hesitated. The ring flickered ominously again.

Ron spun around to the sound of the Grangers groping and stumbling their way up the steps. His ring gave another flicker as he thrust his hands into his pockets and his heart beat faster. He had one more warning flicker before the shielding light would go out. Heart beating frantically he searched his pockets for a small smooth box. Giving a shout of joy he pulled the container out of his pocket and tore the top off, scattering some of the beans on the floor. Sending a silent thanks to Fred and George he chucked the beans from him, dispersing them on the floor so that the fanned out in front of all the Death Eaters. When the box was empty he let it fall abandoned to the floor. The ring gave a last feeble flicker and died.

"Shite." Ron cursed as he flung himself around and raced up the steps hoping he would be out of sight before the Death Eaters got their vision back.

"What the hell was that?" Pansy Parkinson wailed as she rubbed desperately at her throbbing eyes.

Luscious must have been the first to regain his eyesight for he cried out in fury. "Where are they?" He looked about madly. "The Muggles are gone."

Draco caught sight of Ron who was now halfway up the staircase. "Weasley got them." He pointed a long pail finger at the red head's retreating back. "After him!"

Instead of using their wands Crabbe and Goyle used instinct and took a step forward after him. Almost instantly their feet were swept out from underneath them and they fell forward onto their faces, landing with a loud and painful crash. They laid there a moment in confused bewilderment, neither certain how they had managed to end up on the floor when they hadn't heard a spell be cast.

"Get up." Draco commanded irately and his two thugs scrambled to obey, trying to push themselves up off the floor. But the instant they set their foot down their feet were swept out from beneath them once again, face planting them into the floor. Again and again they tried to stand to the same aggravating result.

"Expeliumus!" Pansy cried feverishly, jabbing her wand at Ron who had reached the top of the staircase. Caught off guard the wand flew to the very tips of his long fingers before the ring activated and called it back into his grasp. Ron gave a shout of delight as his fingers tightened around the shaft, shocking the remaining Death Eaters into immobility. Having reached the landing Ron stopped to take advantage of the Death Eaters stunned state. "Portrificus Totalus." Pansy's arms and legs snapped to her side and she fell backwards, her body as rigid and lifeless as a board. The look of triumph that had spread across Ron's face dwindled from when he saw the fury and hatred that swept over the remaining pair.

Not waiting to see what hex Luscious Malfoy was going to throw at him, Ron dashed behind the wall and out of sight, leaving father and son standing in the foyer. Draco spun on his father. "Why did you let him get away?"

Luscious turned cold gray eyes on his son. "This is your mission, Draco. Your initiation, not mine. Besides," he turned back to the stairs. "They're now trapped up stairs with no way out."

Giving his wand an almost lazy wave he sent the beans lying in his and his son's path out of the way. When their way was clear of beans the lunged forward toward the stairs in hot pursuit of the youngest Weasley son, leaving the other Death Eaters ensnared in their magical traps. Crabe and Goyle were still trying to gain their footing, the unknown Death Eater was still bound face down on the floor, and Pansy was staring at the ceiling lifelessly.

Ron reached the door at the end of the hall recognizing it as Hermione's room. He flung open the portal and stepped inside, freezing in shock when he saw Hermione still standing there, wand raised and pointed at his heart. The color drained from his face and a cold, heavy weight settled around his heart. "Mione," he stumbled father into the room. "What are you still doing here?"

She let her wand hand fall. "We were waiting for you." She explained, holding up the spun glass ball in her other hand for Ron to see.

He would have responded but the sound of feet stomping their way up the staircase drew his attention back to what was happening in the hall. Reacting quickly on instinct he stepped out of the way of the door and slammed it shut giving, Hermione room and time to imperviate it against intruders.

"Search every room, Draco." They heard Luscious order his son. "They have to be here somewhere."

Ron and Hermione backed away from the door as they heard the heard the father and son team make their way down the hall checking every room for their pray. Within what had felt like seconds someone had reached Hermione's door. The handle jiggled and was followed by the thud of a shoulder colliding with it. "They're in here father." They heard Draco call from just outside the door, his voice raised with delight. Almost instantly the door was under attack. It shuttered and quaked under the volley of spells that were thrown at it, rattling the hinges and causing the calendar pinned to the back of the door to come free and fall to the floor. The wood door groaned and shuttered and the seal that Hermione's impervious spell had made began to crack, making the door penetrable once more.

"Mione," Ron spun around, placing both his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Take your parents and get out. I'll hold them off."

Hermione could feel renewed terror rise in her chest as visions of Ron's battered and bloody body lying broken on the floor swam through her mind. "Ron, no." She clutched at his arms, her fingers digging into them in her terror. "You can't face them alone and…"

"Mione, the doors not going to hold." Ron flung her hands off so that he could turn back to the battered door and cast the charm once again, barely managing to reseal the crack the volleying spells had made before the seam began to split again.

"Then come with us." She pleaded, holding her hand out to him.

The door gave another groan, most of the seal coming undone. He cast the charm again. "Hermione, if I leave this door their going to get in." He threw the spell at the door again. With each passing second the door became obviously weaker. "Your parents can't defend themselves against magic. You have to get them out." He said reasonably.

"I'm not leaving you here." Hermione shouted stubbornly as she cast the impervious spell once again. Despite her effort the door gave another frightening shutter. "That's a death sentence." She turned back to him. "If you think for one moment I'm going to…"

Her argument was silenced by Ron abruptly taking hold of her face, drawing it quickly to him and capturing her lips hungrily with his. For a moment the two were caught by the sensations running rampant through them. Fear and desperation melded making them frantic for the others touch. It was Mrs. Granger's cry of fright as the door gave another grate shutter, the seam splintering open further, that drew the two apart. Hermione whimpered at the loss of contact. Ron spun away and sealed the door once again. "Now go." He ordered without looking back.

"But Ron…" she stammered. "I'm not…"

"Go!" he shouted angrily, giving her a purposeful shove towards her parents.

Hermione stumbled back in shocked surprise. Her heel caught on the edge of her rug and she lost her footing. Flinging her arms out as she desperately tried to catch her balance; she lost hold of the spun glass ball. It flew from her grasp and bounced off the wall, rolled across her desk and dropped to the floor, coming to a stop in the center of the bright rug.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger lunged forward in a desperate attempt to catch their daughter before she landed, but only managed to take hold of her hands before she made contact with a loud thud against the hard floor. Hermione closed her eyes as the sound of spun glass shattering beneath her broke through the racket, piercing her heart.

Her eyes flew open and caught Ron's in an instant. And in that moment they both knew. "No!" She screamed in anguish, trying frantically to push herself up off the floor. "Ron!" she cried when she felt the familiar tug of the portkey activating behind her navel. The last thing she saw before the room dissolved into a diffusion of blurred images and colors was the sight of Ron tilting his chin in a resigned yet brave and defiant manner toward the door that had just burst open to admit Draco and Lucious Malfoy.


	26. Bruised and Battered

Chapter 26: Bruised and Battered

There was nothing she could do. The portkey was drawing her through time and space, her parents magically linked to her arm. Her thoughts were incoherent as she was tossed about, her parents banging and tumbling into her and each other. Her mind was a muddle of thoughts and images, the only one making any sense was her certainty that she needed to get back to Ron. He needed her. But there was nothing she could do at the moment. Until they arrived at their destination she was at the mercy of the portkey.

What took in reality only a few seconds lasted an eternity for Hermione. Just when she thought she would go mad the random tumbling sensation ended and she and her parents came to a crashing halt against cold stone floor, Mr. and Mrs. Granger landing on top of Hermione, pining her to the floor. Immediately she tried to push her disorientated parents off and gain her feet, but found to her annoyance and aggravation that their limbs had become twined in the fall, and her parents, who had never taken a portkey before, were quiet shaken from the experience. Hermione gave a shrike of frustration after several failed attempts at gaining her freedom, and using more strength then she knew she possessed, she pushed her parents off and scrambled to her feet.

She spun around searching the floor for the object that had acted as their portkey. Her mother shifted toward her father and she saw it. A small, blue marble a little larger then the size of a Berty Bott Bean. She bent down and scooped it up into her open palm. Using the wand, that she was miraculously still holding and that was even more surprisingly not broken, she tapped the stone and cried "_Portus_!" it remained still in her hand. "_Portus_!" she cried again giving the marble a firmer tap. "_Portus_!" she screamed frantically when still nothing happened. "_Portus! Portus! Portus_!" Her terror building in her chest making it hard to breath.

"Miss Granger?" At the sound of her name, Hermione whirled around to find her tall headmaster watching her, his old face a mask of confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"Professor Dumbledore!" She cried flinging herself toward his desk. "Hurry! Death Eaters! My house! Ron! Hurry!" When he remained standing there immobile, staring at her vacuously, she cried. "What are you waiting for?"

"Miss Granger," he said in what he hoped was his most soothing voice. "What exactly has happened? Take a few deep breaths and try again."

She took several calming breaths knowing that Dumbledore was right. If she couldn't compose herself enough to tell him what had happened there wouldn't be time for him to go and save Ron. "Death Eaters attacked my house, sir." His cool blue eyes instantly narrowed. "My parents and I just escaped but Ron's still there…" tears gathered in her eyes "and he has no way out!"

For a split second Dumbledore stood there staring at her with his probing eyes as if trying to decide the validity of her story. Seconds later he was around his desk and striding purposefully toward the door, calling over his shoulder to Hermione in his hurry. "Take your parents to Madam Pomfrey. She'll tend to them."

"But sir…" Hermione rushed after him.

"Miss Granger, there's no time." He turned and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder when she caught up to him at the door. "Please Hermione," he said in a low personal voice, "do as I have asked."

Before she could offer further protest Dumbledore was gone, the heavy panel of his door closed firmly behind him. Hermione stared unseeingly at the door. Now that there was nothing further she could do her mind was flooded with those final images of Ron. She knew what that look had meant. It was the look of a man who was resigned to his fate. It was a look she has scene on his face before. It reminded her of that night he had sacrificed himself on the chess board. And yet it was different because in that split moment she saw in his face the resolution that if he was going to be taken out he intended on going down fighting.

"Moppet?" Hermione turned at the sound of her fathers strained voice, her mind still racing, her nerves stained to the breaking point. "What's going on?" He cringed as he took a step toward her. "What just happened?"

It took her a moment to tear her thoughts off of Ron and what was happening in her bedroom to her father's question. She opened her mouth to answer but found her throat stuck and no sound came out. She realized with a start that she didn't really know where to begin. How do you explain to your father that you are a prime target for a power crazed lunatic who hated you because of who your parents were and most especially because you were best friends with the only person who could defeat him? How did one even begin?

While she racked her brain searching for a solution she looked them over for the first time since Ron had delivered them to her. She was almost shocked to find them battered and bruised everywhere that skin shown, blood still ran from the open wound in her fathers brow and he clutched at his side where his ribs had cracked.

She sighed dejectedly, her eyes misting with tears. "I promise I'll explain everything to you." She held out her hand, indicating that they should follow her. "But first let's get you cleaned up."

"Honestly sweetheart," Her mother winced as she stepped gingerly forward on the ankle that she had twisted when she tripped over the bound Death Eater, "were not nearly as bad as we look."

"Speak for yourself." Her father groaned as he stumbled forward a few paces.

"But it's nothing a good nights sleep won't fix."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You need more then a good nights sleep. I told you I would take you to see Madam Pomfrey. She'll fix you in a trice."

Her parents glanced at each other, then at her with a skeptical look in their pained faces. "No offence sweetheart. But I don't see what your Madam Pomfry can possibly do."

"Mum," Hermione sighed shaking her head. "There is so much you have to learn about magic. Second year Harry broke his arm and Madam Pomfrey _could_ have fixed it instantly with magic if Profe…if someone hadn't blundered it and removed his bones all together." Mr. and Mrs. Grangers eyes widened with horror. "Don't worry." Hermione assured then. Sensing where there thoughts were going. "Madam Pomfrey gave him some Skelo-Grow and his bones grew back by morning good as new. If she can re-grow bones I think she can mend a few broken ribs." Her parents still looked unconvinced but followed her from the Headmasters office with no further protest.

The muggles first real shock came when they reached the bottom of the spiraling staircase and they watched the solid stone gargoyle move back into place to guard the entrance as soon as they had passed through. Hermione was forced to wait as her father exhibited the same wonder for things magical that Mr. Weasley did for things muggle. She watched him step close and circle the still statue several rotations before trying to scare it into mobility.

Despite herself Hermione found herself chuckling at her father. "It won't move unless you give him the proper password." She slipped her arm through his and pulled him into movement, forcing him to leave the astonishing gargoyle behind.

Their journey to the hospital wing took twice as long as was necessary. Her parents kept on stopping to gape at some of the more spectacular sights around the castle. The staircase offered the first distraction as it chose to move at the exact moment her mother set her foot down. Hermione, whose thoughts were solely focused on Ron and her anxiety for him, failed to notice that her parents had stopped to converse with a portrait who was delighted to talk to real, authentic muggles for the first time in almost four hundred years, until she was taking the corner into the next hallway. She waited, toe tapping anxiously, for the conversation to cease and her parents to catch up.

"Muggles?" Her mother asked as the sixteenth painting they passed addressed them as such. "What are muggles? I heard that pale boy call your father and I that. What does it mean?"

"Oh, what?" Hermione blinked at her mother a few times before her brain cottoned on. And when she did her eyes widened with surprise. She knew that her parents were ignorant of most things magical, but she hadn't realized that they were so unfamiliar that they did not know the most common name of muggle. "A Muggle is a person with out magic," She explained, "like you and dad. Basically anyone who's not a witch or wizard is a Muggle, that is or course except for squibs."

"Squibs?"

"Yes, squibs. They are people who were born into magical families but were born with out any magical powers. Mr. Filch, the schools care taker, is a squib for instance. So he's the opposite of me. He was born to magical parents but has no powers, and I was born to Muggles but I am a witch."

"Oh, I see." Mrs. Granger nodded and the two stepped back into motion hurrying to Mr. Granger who had gotten a head of them and was now trapped in a trick step. Mrs. Granger seemed to be getting over her initial shock of the bizarre happenings in the castle, for she simply took one of her husbands arms while her daughter took the other and together they heaved him out of his trap. When he had regained his footing they continued on their way but Hermione could tell by the way that her mother caught her bottom lip between her teeth that she was deep in thought.

"Hermione," she broke the comfortable silence, her voice was contemplative. "That boy, the one who attacked us…he called you a Mudblood." Hermione knew eventually this question would come and had dreaded it, she still did. She didn't want to have to explain to her parents that there were people in the world who hated her because of her blood. "I think I know what it means…but I would like you to explain it to me."

"Mum, must I explain it to you now?" she turned pleading eyes on her mother. "Can't we just get you and dad better before we get into explanations?"

After a few moments of her mother staring undecidedly at her she nodded. "Yes," she conceded, "but we will discus it." Her expression leaving no doubt in her mind that they would.

"Yes, mum."

"How much longer until we reach the hospital wing?" Mr. Granger stopped, grimacing, to turn around and look at his wife and daughter.

Hermione glanced around to locate their current location when she realized with relief that they were finally there. "Actually it's right through that door." She pointed to her right where massive double doors stood partially open. She stepped forward and pushed the heavy, double panels open so that her parents could step inside.

"Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione called softly so as not to disturb any possible students who were already there. Within seconds the doors to her office were flung open as if she had canine like hearing, and Madam Pomfrey was rushing forward toward them.

"Miss Granger." The school matron stumbled at the sight of her, her eyes widened with surprise at Hermione presence. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Bulgaria or some such country."

"I was." Hermione agreed. "I came home for Easter and well," she motioned to her parents. "We were attacked."

"Merlin!" the school healer gasped when she caught full sight of Mr. and Mrs. Granger standing uncomfortably behind their daughter. And in less then ten minutes, Mr. Granger's bones were mended, his and his wife's bruises were healed until they were hardly noticeable, their cuts were covered in a light slave, and they had both been given sleeping drafts and put to bed.

Madam Pomfrey had then turned her sights on Hermione and tried to convince her to take a sleeping draft herself and climb into bed, but the young witch refused. There was nothing wrong with her to begin with, thanks to Ron and his quick thinking, and she would not let herself be taken care of until she knew he was all right as well. It was the very least she could do. Besides, is anything happened to him she wanted to be awake to find out.

She sank into the hard wooden chair that sat between her mother and father's beds. She sat and waited quietly until she knew that they had both fallen into deep, undisturbed sleep. When she was certain they would not awake and she would not be overheard, she pulled her feet up onto the chair so that her knees were pressed close to her chest. She bent her head close to her knees and let the despair she had scarcely held at bay wash over her and wept.

Ron tensed his body preparing himself for another collision with hard wood, a pointed edge, solid wall or what ever else the Malfoys could think to throw him against. He slammed into the bookcase standing beside Hermione's bed for the second time, the impact sending the remainder of the books to the floor in a heap. Just when his body began to sage toward the floor he was flung back, this time his body hurtling toward the closest corer of the disheveled desk. The corner gouged into the small of his back, tearing away flesh, causing blood to pour from the wound. He cried out in agony, the sound changing in his throat to a cry of warning as he was slammed face first into the wall, knocking frames free of their hangings, the glass shattering on the floor from the impact.

Finally, as if he were a child's detested rag doll, he was thrown to the floor with such force that the impact broke the death grip he had maintained on the shaft of wood that was his wand. His one means of defense bounced from his grasp and came to rest on the floor just out of reach of his extended fingers.

Ron watched with narrowed, glazed eyes as two brightly polished, black boots took three steps toward him, stooping just in front of his long nose. "You put up a good fight, Weasley." Draco crouched down so that he was closer to eye sight with his red haired victim. "You really did. But it's time you give in and come with us nicely. If you don't…well, let's just say there are other means we have of making you to what we want."

Ron clenched his teeth together as he pinned Draco with his cold, blue eyes. "Go to hell."

Malfoy curled his fingers into a tight fist and slammed it into the side of Ron's head, ramming his scalp into the hard floor. "Mind your manners, weasel."

"Hurry up, Draco." Lucius snarled, glancing anxiously toward the door. "There's no telling where the Mudblood went and who she has spoken to. This house could be swarming with Aurors and Order members any minute now."

"Yes father," Draco turned away from Ron, his chin still set in an angry jut, to rifle through his pockets. That's when Ron saw his opportunity. Taking advantage of Draco's distraction he kicked his legs out and knocked the other boy off his feet, lunging for his wand when he started to fall. His finger tips just grazed the smooth shaft of wood when they were suddenly crushed under Lucius's heel. The older Malfoy put his full weight on the foot immobilizing Ron's hand so that he could kick the wand out of reach and Ron cried out, several of the bones in his hand crushing under the other mans weight. Both Malfoys smiled with satisfaction at the pained look on Ron's face.

Lucius ground his heel further into Ron's flesh, satisfied with the crunching sound and the boy's cry of anguish before he stepped away, releasing Ron's shattered hand from it s trap. He instantly brought his hand protectively to his chest, hiding it behind his other hand. "You son of a bitch." he snarled, glaring with hatred at the Death Eater. "Go to hell you sodding bastard."

"Don't talk to my father that way." Draco shouted, directing his wand on Ron. "Crucio!" he cried with a flourish wave of his wand.

Ron bit into his lip as he fought to hold back the scream tearing at the back of his throat to come out, refusing to allow Draco his demented satisfaction. His body arched off the ground in agony and his lips pierced his lip filling, his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. In his mind he begged his tormentors to stop, to kill him so that the pain would cease, but his wish was left ungranted.

Draco lifted the curse and Ron collapsed onto the floor, a mass of useless limbs, panting with pain. Never before would he have believed that there was anything in the world as painful as the Cruciatus curse. It forced his muscles to cease and twitch out of his control, contracting with painful cramps. It felt like his blood was boiling in his veins, burning him from the inside out; that his insides were being torn to shreds by a scavenging predator and that his skin grew tight, making it feel like his bones and innards were being contracted together in wail boning, leaving him immobile and unable to fight.

"Very good, Draco." His father praised, nodding with approval. He slowly circled the room watching everything with an observant eye, reminding Ron of a hovering vulture, waiting for his injured prey to die so he could swoop in and feed. While he circuited the room he made certain that no part of him, not even his cloak, would brush up against any of Hermione's belongings, as if contact with them would contaminate his person. All the while his stabbing eyes never left his son or their mutual victim. "You must really hate Arthur's boy to cause him such pain." His voice was filled with pride at his son's apparent knack for cruelty. His lips spread in what could be interpreted as a smile but seemed more like a sneer. "However," he continued, nodding at his son. "I still think it prudent to leave immediately, before the fool Dumbledore arrives."

"Not yet father." Draco crouched before his victim and used the tip of his wand to force his chin up. "This is my mission and I want to know how the Mudblood escaped." He looked over Ron's shoulder at his father. "We had every exit blocked. How is it she managed to get out?" he directed his question to Ron who continued to stare through him as if he wasn't there, his blue eyes unfocused and his teeth clenched tight refusing to answer.

"Don't be a fool weasel." he said in a hushed voice. "It's not you we want. It's her." He pressed the tip of his wand deeper into the fleshy underside of Ron's chin, causing him to gage as his wind pipe was momentarily cut off. "Tell me where she is and how she escaped."

"Draco." Lucius's voice held a note of warning.

The younger Malfoy ignored his father, his eyes never leaving the red head's face. "Tell me."

The red head sneered at his captor with loathing. His teeth were clenched tight as he spoke. "Even if I did know where she was, I wouldn't tell you." Ron spat at his feet, letting him know exactly what he thought of him.

The blond boy sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "Well, no one ever did accuse you of being intelligent, did they?" Draco pushed himself back to his feet and turned his attention to his father who was glaring at the photo of Harry, Ron and Hermione that normally sat on the desk. "Why don't you have a go, father?" he suggested. "I have not yet mastered your ability to inflict pain."

"Don't waste your flattery on me, Draco." Lucius turned and tossed the frame in the air and blew it to bits with a well trained spell. "It would be better used on the Dark Lord." He turned and looked down at Ron trying to decide if they could spare the time to participate in one of his favorite pastimes. His face lighting up with a malicious smile he turned his wand on Ron and with a voice dripping with boredom muttered "Crucio."

When the curse hit him the rest of the world melted away until all that he was left with was pain. Unimaginable, mind numbing pain. He no longer had any control over his body and was unsurprised to hear his own blood curdling scream fill the room. The pain was so intense he couldn't breath, it felt like his lungs were collapsing in on each other though he desperately tried to draw in air. He could not seem to make his mind and lungs cooperate no matter how hard he tried.

When the curse was lifted Ron was left sobbing, torrents of wet, salty tears streaking down his face, mingling with the blood of his pierced lip. He rolled to his side, his stomach heaving excruciatingly and emptied what little food he had eaten that morning along with the blood he had swallowed from his pierced lip, onto Hermione's brightly patterned rug. When his body stopped heaving he tried to force his lungs to take in short, even breaths, hoping it would help ease the lingering pain, but nothing helped. Every muscle ached; every bone felt like it was shattered. He wanted to move, there was a sharp pain in his cheek, but he couldn't bring himself to roll over onto his side or lift his hand and remove the piece of glass he now realized was imbedded in his flesh.

"Satisfied Draco?" The young blond nodded. "Then let us take him and go. He'll work just as well for our purpose as the Mudblood."

Sighing with resignation Draco thrust his hand into his pocket. "You're right, sir." He pulled a long parcel wrapped in black fabric from within the depth of the robes. "This can be just as easily continues elsewhere." He started to unravel the black cloth, making certain not to touch the wooden spoon within. "I'll send him off while you free Dolhove, Parkinson and those two brainless oafs. Honestly," he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were sill trying to figure out how to stand up."

"Yes, well…there is something to be said for having lackeys that will do what you tell them without questioning it." He moved toward the closed door and was just reaching out to turn the latch when there was a sudden shout from downstairs.

"Dumbledore!" Crabbe was able to shout out his warning a second before he was silenced by an unknown spell.

Lucius spun around, his eyes wide with crazed terror. "Hurry Draco. Take him and go." And without waiting to see if he was obeyed or that his son escaped, he appearated from the room leaving both son and victim behind.

Moving quickly Draco touched Ron with the end of the wooden spoon and waited just long enough to make sure the portkey had worked before he appearated himself leaving his fellows behind to fend for themselves.

Three minutes later in a burst of sound, the door flew of its hinges and went through the window on the other side of the room. Albus Dumbledore stepped imperiously into the room followed closely by Remus Lupin.

They both stopped just inside the door and looked about taking in the room's disheveled state. One of the two bookcases was tipped on its side, its load spread across the room in shambles. The bed stood at an odd angle from the wall as if a large object had been slammed against it with enough force to send it skidding across the floor. The desk chair was in pieces, most of the frames on the walls had been knocked to the floor. His eyes settled on the several spots of blood and the pile of vomit staining the center of the bright rug where the spun glass of Hermione's portkey still lay in pieces where it had shattered.

"Where are they?" Remus asked coming to himself. His toe bumped against an object on the floor, sending it rolling away. He crouched down and found to his surprise that it was a wand. He recognized the piece of wood. It was Ron's wand. He straightened to his full height, a knot of dread twisting his insides.

Dumbledore sighed heavily as he turned away from the scene. Unless he was much mistaken, which he hardly ever was, Mr. Weasley had put up quiet a fight, if the state of the room was any indication. With only a glance he could tell that the blood and vomit were still fresh which meant that not only was he still alive, but they had just managed to miss him. "I'm afraid were too late, Remus." He sad sadly, turning to his friend and former student. "They've taken Mr. Weasley."

Lupin's mouth firmed resolutely as he turned away from the old wizard to look about the room as if hoping that there was some evidence the old man had missed that would prove him wrong. But he knew Dumbledore was right. "Harry's not going to like this." He mumbled finally, shaking his head miserably. When he turned back to Dumbledore his eyes were blazing with indignant anger. "He's going to want to go after them, to look for him. And I don't blame him."

"Nor do I." The white haired wizard sighed heavily, "However, Harry won't just want to go after him , Remus. He _will_. I have no doubt that the moment he hears of young Mr. Weasley's fate he will try and leave the safety of the castle and look for him, Miss Granger undoubtedly at his side." His pale blue eyes glistened slightly with tears. "It is both a blessing and a curse isn't it? The way he would go to great lengths to save either Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger," he explained, "as they would do for him."

"We can't let him do that." The werewolf growled with righteous indignation.

"I am well aware of that, Remus. He will have to be retained, as much as I hate to do it." Sighing heavily Dumbledore turned toward the door. "There is nothing we can do at the moment for Mr. Weasley. But there are others who still need our help." He directed Remus toward the door and followed the haggard man the length of the corridor and down the stairs to where there four captives were waiting, glaring at their captors, immobilized by the ropes the two friends had conjured to bind them.

"Remarkable." Remus heard the headmaster mutter to himself as he looked down at the four people Ron had managed to apprehend singlehandedly. "Absolutely remarkable." Wasting no time Dumbledore summoned on of the broken frames to him and cast the appropriate spell. Without bothering to look at his captives he tossed the frame, that was now charmed to act as a portkey, into Pansy's lap and the group of four disappeared out of sight, reappearing seconds later in one of the holding rooms at the Ministry of Magic.

"Well, Remus." He nodded toward the door. "There are still other homes we need to check on."

Understanding the importance of the older wizard's words Lupin nodded and took a step toward the front door that remained standing open from when they had arrived. He had barley put his foot down when his feet were suddenly swept from underneath him, bring him face down to the floor with a mighty crash.

Looking up at Dumbledore with bewilderment, he turned over and pushed himself to his feet as the other wizard bent low to the ground, retrieving a single, crushed, red jelly bean. He straightened to his full height and extended his hand palm up so that the other man could examine what he held. Lupin instantly recognized the bean for what it was.

"Fred and George will be pleased to know their inventions worked."

"Yes." Dumbledore agreed readily enough, though there was no trace of joy or excitement in his voice. "However, I do not think this is the way they would have wished to learn." His long fingers closed around the bean seconds before he appearated from the foyer leaving Lupin to follow behind.


	27. Dumbledore's Office

Chapter 27: Dumbledore's Office

He landed with a painful thud on his chest, his arms captured beneath him. Ron lay there a moment in the itchy, vomit ridden straw, hoping that they would leave him be if he just lay there still enough. While his captors spoke in hushed voices behind him, presumably discussing what torture to use on him next, he adjusted his body just enough that his hand could slowly work its way up to his pocket undetected. He slipped his hand inside and tightened his fist. Behind him he heard Lucius give Draco the order to search him before he turned on his heel and walked out of the dungeon like room.

Ron waited, body tensed, for the right moment. He felt Draco draw near and grip his arm, forcefully truing him over onto his back. He let his hand fall out of his pocket and sink deep within the straw praying that the blond boy hadn't seen the small movement. If he had Ron's last weapon and means of escape would be gone.

Draco made quick work of searching his entire person, taking special care to poke and prod him where his flesh was tender from being gauged and beaten. Finally satisfied that the tormented boy had no means of escape he gave him a final kick in the back before he turned and walked toward the door calling over his shoulder. "Get some rest weasel. You're going to need it tomorrow." The door closed with a loud bang and the locks turned into place. The light seeping through the crack under the door faded along with the sound of Draco's retreating footsteps, his malicious laughter trailing earily behind him. Finally the sound stopped and Ron was left alone in the pitch black darkness of his cell.

Sunlight had long since faded from dusk into darkness. Torches lit the halls and the corridors of the castle. The hospital wing was dimly lit by torches periodically placed along the length of the wall, casting the most gentle of glow on its few occupants. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were still in a comatose state with the affects of the school nurses sleeping draft, and Hermione sat stiffly in the same uncomfortable chair, her body curled into a tight ball. She tried to force her eyes to remain open but found it nearly impossible. Her rioting emotions and the lateness of the hour proved intoxicating. Her head would start to nod forward and her eyes would drift shut, but just as she was about to slip into slumber she would jerk herself awake, visions of Ron lying dead on her bedroom floor filing her brain. She would not, no… could not sleep until she knew what had happened.

Hermione glanced at the wrist watch she had taken from her father's nightstand while he slept. A little after nine. Three and a half hours and Dumbledore hadn't returned nor had Ron been brought to the hospital wing.

In frustration she pressed the pads of her hands to her eyes. She couldn't take it any longer. The uncertainty and the guilt were eating away at her insides making it hard to breath. She tried to convince herself that Ron had been brought to St. Mungo's and that in the confusion the adults had forgotten to come and tell her. But the longer she went without word the more certain she became that Dumbledore had been too late. Something had happened to Ron and once again it was her fault that someone in the Weasley family had been harmed. If she hadn't asked him to come and see her he wouldn't have been at her house when the Death Eaters attacked and he never would have sacrificed himself like he had.

Tears leaked from the deep pools of her eyes as guilt and despair once again washed over her. She wrapped her arms tight around her knees and pressed her eyes into them, soaking the soft fabric of her trousers with her tears. Her shoulders shook violently as she tried to hold in the desperate sound of her sobs, but it was useless. They came out in horrible loud gasps of breath.

She pounded a loan fist against her shin, cursing silently. Damn Voldemort. Damn Voldemort and his mindless, heartless drones. It was their fault, all of it. And she hated them. She hated them with a fire and a vengeance she never realized she possessed. Her loathing for the man that was less then human and more like serpent scared her. All these years, despite everything she had been through, she never thought she would be able to commit the act of murder. But in that moment when she realized how much the evil bastard was trying to take from her, she knew that she could if it came down to it. She finally understood what Harry had been going through all the years; why he felt that it was his responsibility and right to take Voldemort out. And the sick bastard hadn't taken nearly as much from her as he had Harry.

Drowning in despair and grief and completely oblivious to the world around her, it wasn't until she felt a hand on her shoulder that she realized that someone else had joined her. "Hermione?" her head snapped up to see Harry's emerald green eyes looking down at her questioningly. "What's going on?"

"Harry!" Her body protested in pain as she unfolded her limbs and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tucking her head into his shoulder. Harry stumbled back in surprise, wrapping his arms protectively around her as he regained his footing.

"God Hermione, what happened?" He rubbed a hand comfortingly up and down her back as she soaked the front of his jumper with tears. "The castles being flooded by students and one of the paintings said they saw you with your parents and that you were headed to the hospital wing." He slowly rotated his head to the right and then the left, expecting to find his other best mate keeping Hermione company. When he didn't see him he turned back to the sobbing girl in his arms. He was almost afraid to ask but despite himself found the words falling out of his mouth. "Where's Ron?"

Her grip tightened on his clothes. She started to speak but her face was still pressed tight against his shoulder and her words were incoherent and muffled at best.

A feeling of dread settled in Harry's chest. "I'm sorry, Hermione," his voice cracked a bit as he spoke. "I didn't quiet catch that. What did you say?"

Hermione pulled away so that she could speak without being muffled, but refused to relinquish her comforting hold around his neck. Her body shook uncontrollably as she took several shuttering breaths. "Death Eaters attacked my house, Harry." Her voice quivered with tears. She released him and wrapped her arms around herself as she stepped away. "It's my fault...I…" her eyes lowered so she wouldn't have to look at him. "I asked him to come…an…and now…"

"Hermione," Harry place both hands firmly on her shoulders and turned her towards him. Terror and pain rose inside him like an inferno. "What happened? Where is Ron?"

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't know what he was thinking!" she cried abruptly, angrily turning and breaking Harry's hold on her. "We had a… a portkey. He… he could have come with us. I…I…I don't understand why he…I don't understand."

Harry's eyes widened with comprehension. He took a dazed step back. "The Death Eaters have him, don't they?"

Hermione coward under the glacial glower in his eyes. "I don't know." She stammered, shaking her head. "Dumbledore went to get him and… and he hasn't come back yet." She looked down at the oversized watch and found that another twenty minutes had past. "I thought they would be back by now."

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed. "How long has he been gone?"

"Al…almost four hours." She replied hesitantly.

"Four hours!" Harry shouted irately, surprising Hermione with the vehemence of it. "They've been gone for four hours and you didn't come and tell me?"

"I…"

"Why didn't you go after him?"

"I tried but…"

"Bloody hell!" Harry spun around on his heel and marched away from Hermione without waiting for her answer.

"Harry!" She called, scuttling after him. "Harry wait... Please!" he ignored her and kept marching toward the door. "Where are you going?"

"After Ron." He called over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.

Hermione quickened her pace to catch up with him. "Harry, you can't."

"Yeah?" He snapped bitterly. "Try and stop me."

"Harry!" Hermione wailed as she put herself in-between him and the door. "You mustn't. Don't you see?" She pushed firmly against his chest, trying to dig her heels in the floor but to no avail as her feet skid across the smooth, flat stones. Harry was determined to leave and her meager attempts were not going to stop him. "That's exactly what they want, Harry. They want you to go after him."

"Don't you think I know that?" He shouted as he flung her hands off of him. "I'm well aware that they took him to get to me."

"Then please don't do this." She pleaded. "Don't let them lure you out of the castle. It isn't safe."

"Hermione!" Harry cried in desperation. "Please don't try and stop me. They could be killing him right now." He tried to step around her. "I have to go… I have to..."

"Harry," she put herself in his way again. "If they wanted to kill him you would be too late." Her eyes widened as if she had just comprehended the truth of her own words. Her eyes misted with fresh tears at the tormenting truth of her next thought. "He'll already be dead."

"Stop it." Harry snarled. She looked up to see the tears gathering behind Harry's eyes. "J…just stop it."

"It's true." She wiped furiously at her pale cheeks. "He's probably dead already and it's all my fault."

"Hermione…"

"No," she shook her head, stepping away from his outstretched hand. "It's true… If I hadn't asked him to come, he never would have…"she sank down onto the foot of the nearest bed, thrusting her fingers deep into the locks of her hair and fisting them so that she could tug at it in frustration. She rocked back and forth slightly her entire body trembling. "It's all my fault." Harry watched stunned as the strong and powerful girl he knew came apart before his eyes, scaring him more then any encounter with Voldemort ever had. "The Weasley's are going to have real cause to hate me this time… and I…I don't blame them." She let go of her hair to wrap her arms protectively about herself and turned away when Harry moved closer. "Ju…just go away… Harry. I'm bad luck."

"Hermione, stop it." He forced his voice to remain steady and strong. "This is not your fault."

"It is." She protested, refusing to look at him. "If I hadn't…"

"Enough already!" Harry interrupted angrily. "It's my job to play the aggrieved teenage hero. There can't be two of us."

"Harry," Hermione moaned through her tears. "That's not funny." She tried to glower at him but found herself chuckling haltingly as tears continued to run down her pale cheeks.

"I myself, found it quiet amusing."

Harry spun around and Hermione's head snapped up to find Dumbledore standing in the entrance to the hospital wing looking warn and tired and more then a little battle weary. He took a few steps into the room as Hermione stood up and she and Harry rushed towards him. "It is in times like these we need laughter more then ever. Without it, I believe, life would become unbearable."

"Professor," Hermione took another step forward, ignoring the professor's words in her desperation to know what had happened to her friend. "Where's Ron? What happened?"

The old wizard looked past her to where Mr. and Mrs. Granger were lying peacefully in their beds. "Your parents?"

"They're fine." She snapped, quickly loosing patients. "Where's Ron? What's going on? What's taken you so long?"

Dumbledore's proud and commanding demeanor seemed to dwindle before them until he looked tired, old and defeated. "Perhaps you should come with me. Both of you."

"Sir…is Ron…" Harry couldn't finish the question but it hung in the air like a grave omen.

Dumbledore sighed, his soft blue eyes loosing even more of their luster. "Come with me and I'll explain everything to the best of my ability."

"But…"

"Please Harry," the old wizard stopped him before he could make any more protest. "Come with me."

The young man nodded and he and his friend silently followed the old wizard from the room and through the many corridors of the castle to the entrance of his office. The stone gargoyle jumped aside at his murmured password and they climbed onto the spiraling staircase.

Hermione fidgeted anxiously from keeping quiet so long. She was going mad with her need to find out what had happened to Ron, but wisely remained silent knowing that the headmaster would not speak until they reached his office and that it would only waist more time for her to stop and ask him now.

When they reached the top of the stairs Dumbledore opened the door and Harry and Hermione followed him inside. They moved toward the chairs stationed in front of Dumbledore's desk. Hermione came to a quick stop when she saw the bright gleam of copper hair out of the corner of her eye. "Ron!" she cried automatically turning about, ready to throw herself at him, but the moment she took a step towards the shiny beacon she knew it wasn't him.

"Ginny." Hermione stammered as she came to a halt. "Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry." She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around the younger girl.

Not entirely certain what was going on, Ginny looked over her friends shoulder to Harry who was still standing where Hermione had left him. "Harry? What's going on?" Her astute eyes glanced questioningly between him and Hermione, "Where's Ron?" She released the unsteady girl so that she could better look at the Headmaster. "Professor, what's going on?"

"Please," he waved his hand gracefully, summoning another chair to sit before his desk. "Would you take a seat? I fear that this explanation may take some time." He waited until his three students had seated themselves comfortably, Harry on the far left, Hermione in the middle and Ginny on the right. He stood there a full minute staring at them still debating with himself over the best course of action.

"Please, sir," Hermione begged when she couldn't stand the silence a moment longer. "Where is Ron? Please…" She begged. "What's happened?"

Dumbledore lowered himself slowly into his seat, pulling it closer to his desk. He folded his hands lightly on the surface. He stared intently at his twiddling thumbs a moment as if they magically held the answer to all his woes. "Are you aware," he began almost unsteadily, "that our Mr. Weasley is a master strategist?"

The three friends shifted in varying displays of surprise. Harry straightened in his seat, Hermione's brows furrowed together in thought as she leaned slightly forward, and Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest as she tilted her head dubiously to the side to better observe the aged wizard.

"A master strategist?" The young red head voiced the question they were all thinking.

"Yes, Miss Weasley. A master strategist." Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose a minute to ward off the beginning of a headache. "I'll have you recall if you will Professor McGonagall's chess board from your first year." Harry's and Hermione's eyes widened with understanding while Ginny frowned with puzzlement, not having been at Hogwarts at the time. "There are very few adult wizards who could have won their way across that board. The fact that your friend Ronald was able to do so at such a young age is…quiet remarkable. Your friend has a talent for strategy… a talent I believe that has only grown stronger over the years." He raised a white brow suggestively as the young wizard and witches nodded their agreement. "I believe Ronald and I would be fairly evenly matched if we were to test our skills against each other. And please don't think my vain in saying that that truly is saying something. There are very few witches or wizards alive, I am proud to say, that can best me in chess… and I do believe Ronald may be one of them."

"Forgive me sir," Ginny interrupted, quickly loosing patients with Dumbledore, "but what has this to do with anything? Why have you brought us here? And where is Ron?" She brushed her hair over her shoulder in aggravation. "What is going on?"

"What is going on, Miss Weasley, is that I have spent the past two hours interrogating Miss Pansy Parkinson and Mr's Crabbe, Goyle and Dolhove."

Hermione started with surprise. "You mean you caught them? All four of them?"

"More like Mr. Weasley did." Dumbledore corrected. "When Remus and I arrived Mr.'s Crbbe and Goyle were still trying to find a way to stand up without being tripped once again while Mr. Dolhove and Miss Parkinson were in no state to help them seeing as one was bound by ropes and the other was under a full body bind. Like I said before, your friend and brother is a master strategist." The old wizard stroked his chin thoughtfully. "According to the accounts of the four apprehended, Ronald single handedly took them out of the fight."

"Sir," Harry interrupted when the headmaster stopped for breath. "You still haven't told us where Ron is."

The pale blue eyed wizard sighed heavily. "No Harry, I haven't." Dumbledore rose from his seat and moved to pace the length of floor behind his desk. "I must confess for sometime I considered telling you that we had been on time. That Remus and I were able to reach Miss Granger's house before any serious damage could be done." He looked away from the wide eyes of the three teenagers watching him. "I considered telling you that we had Ronald tucked safely away at St. Mungo's..." he stopped and faced Harry, looking him directly in the eye. "But I made a promise to you last year, Harry. No more secrets."

Moving with the agility and grace of a man twice his age, Dumbledore lowered himself into his seat once again, moving it close to his desk. He threaded his fingers and placed them palm down on the desks shinny surface. "We were too late. Vincent Crabbe was able to call out a warning to Draco and Lucius who were upstairs with Ron." He shook his head." By the time we reached your room, Miss Granger, they had already taken him."

The room went silent in the wake of his words. Ginny felt an intense cold invade her heart, Harry froze as pain and anger rushed his body and Hermione went empty inside. It was true. Ron was gone and it was entirely her fault. Suddenly the emptiness was gone, pain and anguish hit her so strong it was hard to breath. Hermione gasped for breath as she doubled over in pain.

"Miss Granger." She cringed away from the old wizards touch.

"It's my fault." She looked up at him with tear soaked eyes. "It's all my fault." She rose frantically to her feet and clutched at Dumbledore's robes. "Why didn't he come with us? We had a portkey. There was enough room. Why?"

"Hermione," Harry pried her fingers loose of the headmaster's robes. "Hermione, let go." He said softly when her fingers still clung.

Finally her fingers loosened there hold and she turned and buried her face in Harry's chest. "He could have come with us. Why didn't he come with us?"

"I'm not certain Hermione," Dumbledore shook his head. "As I wasn't there nor am I privy to his thoughts. But I must assume that Ron was taking into consideration the fact that the portkey was meant for one person travel only."

"What?" Hermione pulled slightly away from Harry in order to look at Dumbledore.

"Hermione," the blue eyed wizard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I need to ask you what happened. I'm afraid my sources were only able to give me half the tale."

Hermione pushed her matted hair out of her eyes before covering her face with her hands. She took several breaths as she tried to force the crushing weight of her chest so that she could clear her mind. But it was hard. All she could see was the way Ron had turned to face the Malfoy's alone.

"Umm…we were talking…" she tried to swallow past the lump in her throat but the harder she tried to force it down the more firmly it stuck itself. "and the doorbell rang…and I remember thinking that it was strange because my parents and I weren't expecting anyone…And…the next thing I know there is crashing and screaming, and I knew…I knew Death Eaters had my parents."

Ginny gasped with horror. Unlike Harry she hadn't known that Hermione's parents were tucked away in the hospital wing recovering from attack. She rose to her feet and wrapped an arm around her friend, hugging her to her side, needing the comfort just as much as her friend did, for Merlin help her she already knew what was coming.

Hermione lowered her head, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "He stopped me. I was just going to go and try to help them, but he stopped me." She shook her head. "I don't even now what all he did. He told me to stay behind the wall or I would be blinded. All I know is that he brought my parents to me and he told me to take them and go." She bit painfully into her lip. "But I didn't," she looked up into Dumbledore's sympathetic eyes. "He asked me to go, no he told me to and I waited. I thought he needed to come with us… and he told me to go but I fought him." She shook her head vulnerably. "I still don't understand. Why didn't he come with? There was time?"

"No, Hermione." Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I don't believe there was. You imperviated the door, yes?" she nodded. "How well was it holding against the Malfoys' attack?"

Hermione's eyes misted as comprehension took root. "It wasn't…and he knew that."

Dumbledore nodded. "I suspect that Ronald was trying to gain you more time so that you and your parents could coordinate the activation of the portkey. You would need to touch it simultaneously in order for it to work."

"But my parent's didn't touch it. They were holding my hands and they were brought with."

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, "But I don't think Ron considered that an option. I think he believed that all travelers would have to touch the portkey in order for it to work."

"Why do you keep talking of him in the past tense?" The other three occupants of the room turned to see Harry standing a few paces off, fists clenched, muscles tensed and eyes blazing with fury. "Is he dead?"

"No." Dumbledore assured him. "He's very much alive…though suffering greatly I fear."

"Then don't speak as though he is."

Feeling a great swell of anger and vengeance Harry turned and began to march toward the door, disregarding Ginny's and Hermione's calls for him to stop. His fingers had just circled the handle when the door sealed closed before his eyes.

He spun around, his breath rapid and heavy. "Let me out." He demanded.

Dumbledore straightened to his full height, looking down at Harry imperiously. "No."

Harry pulled his wand and trained it on Dumbledore. "Let me out!" He demanded again, directing his anger on the old wizard.

"I can't do that, Harry. Not until you stay and listen to reason."

"What reason? They have Ron. There torturing him. You can't expect me to just sit here and do nothing."

"What can you do that the Aurors and members of the Order can not?" The old wizard asked reasonably, moving around his desk to sink stiffly into his seat. "Harry do you realize what's happened today?" The dark haired boy said nothing but continued to stair unseeingly ahead while Hermione and Ginny brought their two chairs together so that they could sit and hold on to each other, and offer comfort while they cried. "For some time now we've known that an attack on Muggle-borns was eminent, we just weren't certain as to when it would happen. When you arrived in my office Hermione, I knew it had begun. As Harry and Ginny may have noticed, many of the students have returned to school early. It is no longer safe in their homes."

He leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. "I do not think you realize how many lives you have saved today through your actions." Harry reluctantly turned from the door. "With Ronald's quick thinking, you Hermione were able to alert me and I was able to send out forces to rescue those families." Dumbledore turned his pale eyes on Harry. "And it was because of you Harry, and your DA meetings, that students like Dean Thomas and the Creevey brothers were able to fight off their attackers long enough for Order members to come to their rescue. They are now recuperating in St. Mungo's."

"What has this got to do with me going after Ron?"

"I want you to realize, Harry, that nothing Ron has done has been done in vain. He has saved more lives today with his quick thinking then just the Grangers. Don't lessen what he has done by putting yourself at risk." Harry lowered his head as the begging's of shame began to creep into his consciousness. "You will be playing into the Death Eaters hands."

"I know that." he spoke through tightly gritted teeth. "I still have to go for him. He would do the same for me."

"One of the reasons it took me so long to return was that I had to stop and speak with Arthur and Molly. They had a right to know the fate of their son." Harry turned back to Dumbledore, his attention once again obtained. "And they made a request Harry. I am to gain your promise."

"My promise?"

"Yes. Your promise. That neither you, Hermione or Ginny, leave this school. Molly said it was difficult enough loosing Ron, she couldn't bear to loose another son as well."

Harry's eyes unwillingly misted over. "She said that?"

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "She did. As did Arthur. I know they're not your real mother and father Harry, but they think of you as one of their own. And I do believe it would break their hearts if you so readily disregarded their request." Harry felt the heavy weight of guilt settle on his shoulders. "So I'll ask you, do I have your promise, Harry, that you will not leave Hogwarts?"

"I…"

"Please, Harry. If you leave I will be forced to pull Order members away from looking for Ron to search for you. You will be a hindrance to the process, not a help. Do I have your word?"

Harry's innards coiled tight as he wrestled with two very strong desires. His need to go for Ron and his need to follow Dumbledore's and the Weasley's wishes. Feeling almost as if he were betraying his best friend he nodded. "All right. I'll stay. But I don't know for how long." He met Dumbledore's pale blue eyes with his intense green ones. "But I will for as long as I can. That's the best that I can promise."

"And yet, I can't help but wish it were more." Dumbledore slowly rose from his seat and waved his wand at the door, releasing it from the impervious charm. "I think it is time that you three got some rest. It's been a long day and I am sure you are all thoroughly worn out. Hermione," the curly haired raised her head to meet his eyes. "would you like a bed to be brought to the sixth year dorm or would you like to join Ginny in the fifth?"

The two girls' eyes caught and an understanding was reached. When they turned back to Dumbledore there was no need for words. He already understood. They rose from their seats and joined Harry who was waiting at the door, holding it open for them.

"We will find him." The three teenagers stopped and looked at their headmaster. "I promise you that."

Harry turned away from Dumbledore and wrapped his arms around his two friends, drawing them close. "But what kind of state will he be in when you do?"


	28. Despair

Chapter 28: Despair

Ron sat hunched tight in a corner, his body rocking back and forth jarringly, his fingers clenched tight in his hair as images invaded his brain, making it difficult to breath, hard to see and impossible to think. All he could do was watch hopelessly as he was forced to relive horrible moments in his life. Tears streamed steadily down his raw, bruised face as he was consumed by the emotions that had ruled him at the time of the memory. There was nothing he could do. With out his wand he was powerless to fight off even one Dememntor, but there were two standing guard outside his door and they were brutal in their affects on him.

He was never left alone. They were always there, day and night, standing outside his door. He had no windows, nor any other means of light to see by. He spent his days in total, unforgiving darkness and the only time he found relief from the inky blackness was when the Death Eaters came to drag him bodily from his cell to another part of his prison where he would be tortured further by Draco and other of his Death Eater friends. No sooner would one wound begin to heal then they would reopen it with another brutal beating or well placed hex. They wanted to extract information from him about the order, about Harry, or about the prophesy.

Ron fought them and the depression of situation as best he could, but he was simply no match for the combined affects of the Death Eater beatings and the Demantors constant presences. There was no reprieve. No end to the madness he could fell slowly take hold of his body. His strength was giving out. He could fell his body weakening everyday, making it more and more difficult for him to fight. They hadn't cracked him yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

Ron coiled away from the dim glow that appeared in the gap between the door and the floor. They were coming again. Coming to take him away… And he didn't want to go… Not with them… Not again.

Harry stared into the dancing flames of the orange yellow fire, his mind churning painfully with worry and fright. It had been four days. Four days since Dumbledore had brought them to his office and told them Ron had been taken. Four days and still there was no word of where he was, what was being done to him or even if there was a chance they would ever see him again. Despite his obvious personal feelings, Snape was even doing his most to discover what had happened to his pupil, but found the task quiet impossible. There were no friends amongst the Death Eaters and everything was being kept hush about his location.

Harry dropped his head into his hands. Things hadn't been so pleasant here since Ron had been taken either. From the moment students began flooding the school with their arrival, returning days early from their Easter holiday, Hermione, Harry and Ginny had not been able to take two steps without being cornered for information. But the three would have none of it. They were tight lipped and unyielding with information which meant students like Dean Thomas and Colin Creavey were taking the center of attention as they were willing to retell their stories of how they managed to hold off the Death Eaters long enough for help to arrive.

However tight lipped she was, Hermione was the most sought out to retell her story. With in half an hour of students arriving word had spread that Ron Weasley had been taken by Death Eaters and Hermione Granger had been with him when it had happened. Little was known besides that, which made the tale all the more intriguing to the other students. Soon they were hounding her wherever she went. The Common room, the Great Hall, the castle grounds. Not even the Library, which was normally deserted and quite, was sacred anymore having been flooded with curious onlookers. So Hermione and Ginny had retreated to the fifth year dorm, which offered the more sanctity then any other room in the castle, seeing as boys couldn't mount the steps and most girls didn't venture into other years dormitories. A few however, had been daring enough to seek them out but after one heated tongue thrashing from Hermione they never attempted it again.

Harry sighed and leaned his head back against the sofa. And as if Hermione hadn't already had enough on her plate, what with the guilt and anguish she carried over Ron being taken, she was also forced to set her parents down the day after they arrived and explain to them exactly what had been happening in the wizarding world over the past six years and why exactly she had kept the information from them. Harry and Ginny, who had been standing guard outside the hospital wing entrance, ensuring the Grangers were not disturbed, had heard every heated word of it.

After learning that their daughter was a prime target in a wizarding war, not only because of her genealogy, but also because of who her best friends were, they had wanted to pull her out of Hogwarts and send her to live with her aunt in Ireland where they felt she would be safe. Hermione had instantly put her foot down in refusal and had debated the fact with her parents for a good hour and a half before Hermione, in a fit of indignant furry, told them that they would do no such thing seeing as she was seventeen and of age in the wizarding world. She would _not_ leave Hogwarts, she would _not_ leave Harry and Ron and she would **_not_** run away to Ireland like a coward. Even if she did run, she tried to explain, Voldemort and his followers would find her there eventually. No, the only way she would ever be safe was if she helped Harry in his attempt to defeat the sadistic bastard and set the wizarding world to rights once again. Otherwise no one would be safe, not in the wizarding world or the Muggle world.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger had left soon after for a safe house while Dumbledore set up safe passage for them to Ireland where they would be staying with the before mentioned aunt. Hermione had tried talking and reasoning with them before they left but it was time wasted. There was nothing to be said that hadn't already been said nor words that could mend the hurt Hermione had inadvertently caused them. She had spent the better part of four hours crying after they left while Harry and Ginny tried their best to comfort her. Though neither of them had voiced their fear out loud, they were both terrified that their friend was about to crack. The break with her parents combined with the loss of Ron was stretching her thin. She hadn't slept well since she had arrived at the castle, never gaining more then two or three hours of fitful night sleep. Her appetite was suffering as well. She couldn't make herself swallow more then two mouthfuls before pushing her plate away calming she was no longer hungry, and dark purple bags and formed under her eyes.

Harry wished desperately that there was something more he could do for her, but there wasn't. He couldn't go after her parents to reason with them, nor could he go after Ron and bring him home for her. All he could do was be there and try to comfort her as best he could.

Then there was Ginny. Harry didn't know what to do about her. He knew she needed him just as much as Hermione did, and he needed her. But she had been drawing away from him, closeting herself away and focusing most of her attention on Hermione so that she could avoid her own feelings. In all honesty he didn't know if he could handle her rejection of him along with everything else that was happening. He so desperately wanted to just take her in his arms and hold her there, both giving and receiving comfort while protecting her…but he knew he couldn't. Now was not the time to act on his feelings toward her. Not with Ron out there somewhere suffering because of him.

Harry's thoughts once again fell on his friend and the tortures he must be suffering on his account. He closed his eyes in hopes of staunching the flow of tears but some escaped to slide silently down his face. Harry didn't even look up when he felt a pair of arms circle his shoulders and draw him into a tight hug.

"Shh…" Hermione soothed, running motherly fingers through his black, disheveled hair. "He'll be alright, Harry." His arms wrapped around her while he buried his face in her shoulder. "He's strong." Her voice cracked as she spoke, revealing her own fear and worry. "He can handle whatever they put him to."

"Neville's parents were strong to." Harry kept his head buried in her shoulder so that he wouldn't have to look up into Hermione's misty eyes. "Lestrange broke them though, didn't she?"

Hermione didn't answer. There was no need. They both knew it to be true. Tears welled in her eyes as her arms tightened around him. She wanted to be strong but Harry crying silently on her shoulder was too much for her. She bowed her head and cried, clinging to Harry seeking the same comfort and support he was trying to draw from her.

Ginny rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stumbled down the cold stone steps of the girls dormitories. She stepped nimbly on her toes for her feet were bear and each step stung as the stones were as cold as ice. She had woke a few minutes ago sensing instinctually that Hermione was no longer in the bed next to her. When a quick scan of the room confirmed her suspicion she went in search of her friend.

She stopped at the foot of the steps, just out of sight in the shadows where the fires light didn't reach, and took in the sight before her. She felt a sharp, though unexplainable, twinge of jealousy in her breast and the beginnings of anger rising inside her as she watched Harry and Hermione clinging to each other. Logically she knew it was ridiculous for her to feel this way. Harry and Hermione were just friends, and Hermione… everyone knew she was Ron's girl. And Harry…he would never betray Ron like that.

No, that wasn't what was bothering her. She was being excluded again. She could kick herself for letting herself believe that she was as important to Harry and Hermione as they were to her. For the past few months Harry had been spending more time with her then either Ron or Hermione and they had gotten on famously. But now…now when it really mattered, she was passed over again for the others company. When Hermione woke up why hadn't she come to her for comfort? They were close weren't they? She was just as good at listening as Harry was, if not better. And it was _her_ brother that was taken, not theirs. Granted the three of them had been through more together but…she thought maybe last year had changed all that. Apparently not.

Harry caught the subtle movement in the shadows of the staircase and saw the light blue of Ginny's nightgown as she turned to retreat up the stairs. Without hesitation he called out to her. "Ginny!"

She froze with one foot barely skimming the next step, her eyes closing tight together at the sound of his voice. She was hoping that they wouldn't catch her lurking on the stairs. For a moment she considered ignoring him and continuing her climb up the stairs, but knew it would be hopeless. Harry might not be able to follow her but Hermione could and the last thing she needed was Hermione confronting her on why she had run away from them.

Having made her decision, she slowly turned and took the few remaining stairs and stepped off into the common room. Both Harry and Hermione were looking at her now. Harry's arm was still wrapped around Hermione, comfortingly stroking her arm, but his eyes were glued on Ginny. He couldn't take them off her.

She looked ravishing in a nightgown of palest powder blue. She had shrugged on a dressing gown two shades darker then the dress but had left the belt loose so that the front gaped open leaving the expanse of her pale, freckled chest and slim, shapely calves exposed. His eyes lingered a moment on the patch of thigh that was exposed just above her knee. Harry blinked several times and tried to force his throat to swallow, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. He forced his eyes up to hers once again, blinking them several times to try and clear the fetching image that she made. He coughed once to get his voice working and asked, "Why don't you join us?" He removed one arm from Hermione and held it out indicating that she should come and sit within the circle of his arms.

"Oh…no." She shook her head taking a step back toward the stairs. "I just woke up and…when I didn't see Hermione in bed I…I thought I would come keep her company." Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson. "I'll just…go back to bed."

"No Ginny," Hermione sat up when her friend started to retreat. "Come and join us."

"No," She shook her head causing the strands of copper to fall in front of her eyes. "It's all right. I know you want to be with your friends right now and…well…good night."

"Ginny," Harry released Hermione and bound after the red head, wrapping a hand around her arm to stop her just before she reached the steps once again. "Ginny," he forced her to turn toward him and he saw that there was a tear trailing down her cheek. He reached up and brushed it away. "I thought you _were_ one of my friends." She blinked up at him in surprise. "Come on." He took her hand and pulled her back into the common room and toward the sofa where Hermione was waiting. He sat and wrapped one arm around his brown haired fried while he pulled Ginny down next to him with the other, drawing her tight against his body as he did.

Ginny closed her eyes and savored the brief moment of happiness and contentment. She was in Harry Potter's arms and he was hugging her. _He_ was actually hugging _her_. She inhaled his scent, committing it to memory before tentatively letting her head fall back onto his shoulder. His body tensed for a moment and she feared that she had gone too far but then his arm tightened further until his hold on her was more secure and the barest smile spread across her lips. She let go of the world and for the time being let herself enjoy what she had and forget what she had lost.

Ginny was startled out of her happy retreat however when Hermione reached across Harry and took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "How are you doing, Ginny? Are you sleeping all right?"

The red head squeezed the other girls hand back. "I'm fine." She sighed. Using her free arm she pulled her robe tight about her, feeling suddenly chilled. "I imagine I'm much the same as you. Going mad with worry…anxiously waiting for news that they've found him. You know?" She shrugged half heartedly.

"Yes," Hermione leaned back into Harry, "I know."

The trio sat there quietly for several minutes staring into the fire. Hermione's head was soon leaning against his shoulder and her and Ginny's breathing was growing heavier, their bodies more limp beside Harry's. He knew they weren't asleep yet, but were on the brink and considered for a moment sending them up to bed where logically they would be more comfortable, but he also knew that they were getting just about as much sleep as he was. And if that were true they desperately needed sleep, and if the only way they were able to do that was if they stayed here with him, then he wasn't going to disturb them. Perhaps if he waited long enough he would be able to find sleep himself.

Feeling the lotharios affects of their combined comfort, the warm fire and the security of their bodies next to his, Harry was just leaning his head to the side to rest on top of Ginny's when he felt Hermione stir. "Dumbledore was right you know."

Her voice was so soft Harry wasn't sure at first if he had heard her but Ginny jerked back from the brink of sleep and lifted her head bumping it against Harry's chin, and groggily turned her head to look at Hermione, blinking several times in the fire light. "What?" she asked dumbly, giving her head a slight shake, pushing the copper strands of her hair out of her eyes.

"I said," she spoke a bit louder and a bit more forcefully," Dumbledore was right." She sat up, pulling free of Harry's arm so that it dropped to the sofa behind her, and turned so that she could better look at her two friends. "Ron _is _a master strategist. How many times have we watched him clear the board with any opponent stupid enough to go up against him? And look at all the times we've managed to get ourselves into trouble." She flung her arms out for emphasis. "Ron has never _once_ lost his cool. His brain works wonderfully under pressure. And he sees things that we, in our panic, miss."

Harry's eyes scrunched together. "So what exactly are you trying to say?"

Her shoulders sagged and she looked away from the round orbs of her friends eyes. "I'm saying…that it's my fault he was taken."

"Hermione, stop it." Ginny snapped, her temper catching.

"No, it's true." She objected, holding up a halting hand when both Harry and Ginny tried to interrupt her. "Just listen. Ron _is _a master strategist. He told me to take my parents and go. He told me several times in fact. But all I could think was I can't leave him behind. That would be condemning him to death. But the truth is I don't think he would have tried sending me away if he didn't think he had a way out."

"Maybe," Harry conceded. "But we also know that Ron _is_ willing to sacrifice himself for both of us. I mean how many times has he done that all ready?" Harry started to tick off his fingers. "The chess board, going into the Chamber with me after Ginny, standing up to Sirius…"

"Yes, yes," she interrupted, "I know. But…"

"Hermione stop blaming yourself." Ginny roared with anger. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. And things are bad enough without you going on like this. So stop it."

Hermione thrust her fingers into her hair with frustration. "I'm sorry." She shook her head aimlessly. "I just… I feel like I'm missing something. Something that will let this all make sense."

"Like what?" Harry leaned forward in his seat, eager for anything that might help him, or rather the Order, to find Ron.

"I don't know." She slumped back in defeat. "I don't know. I just…I know that there's something."

"Damn it!" Harry threw himself to his feet and kicked the leg of a chair that was standing near by, not feeling the pain in his toe but only the anger and frustration that were rising inside him with a vengeance. "I hate this!" He spun around and started pacing the room. "I should be out there looking for him. He's _my_ best friend. It's _my_ responsibility to find him. I…"

"Harry, stop it!" Ginny screamed, taking both Harry and Hermione by surprise. She bound to her feet and jabbed a finger painfully into Harry's chest. "Don't you think for one second of going after him, do you hear me?" Tears stained her eyes until they looked almost black. "I want to go to." She pressed a hand to her chest, "He's my brother and he's my friend. So I understand. But you promised Dumbledore and more importantly my parents, that you wouldn't."

"Ginny," Harry stepped toward her, hand outstretched at the sight of her tears.

"No," she backed away. "You promised. You _know_ Ron wouldn't want you to go looking for him. He understands. We all do. So don't be stupid Harry."

"Ginny I…"

"You too, Hermione." She interrupted, turning on the girl who had remained quiet. "Don't think I don't know you are a heartbeat away from going to look for him yourself. But you mustn't." Tears were pouring down her face in torrents now. "It would be a slap in the face. It would mean that everything that he's sacrificed would mean nothing. And my parents," she pinned her eyes on Harry. "They really do think of you as another son, Harry. And Hermione, you're the closest thing I have ever had to a sister. My family couldn't bear to loose you two as well."

"Ginny," Unable to hold himself back any longer, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her tight. Ginny wrapped her own arms around Harry's waist and buried her face into his chest while she cried. "Shhh…" he tried to sooth, laying his cheek on the crown of her head. "It'll be all right." He pressed a kiss into her hair before laying his head on top of hers once again. "I promise everything will be all right."

Hermione backed slowly away from her friends and when she reached the base of the staircase she slipped silently up the steps, feeling unworthy to share in their grief. They both claimed it wasn't her fault, but she knew better. If she had done as Ron asked, if she hadn't been a fool since August, he would be there with them now. He wouldn't have needed to sacrifice himself to get her out of there; he wouldn't even have been at her house. And the truth was he was probably going to die because of her. She didn't believe it had happened yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time, and the guilt was unbearable.

She climbed into the bed Dumbledore had conjured into the fifth year dorm for her and pulled the drapes around her bed to block out the cold and the sound of the other girls sleeping. She buried her face deep in her pillow and sobbed heartbreaking, gut wrenching tears.

Ginny opened the door to her dormitory and her ears instantly picked up the sound of her friend crying. Thankful that she hadn't imperviated her bed, the young girl walked quickly toward it, pulled aside the hangings enough to slip through, and steeled herself on the bed next to her friend. She closed the curtains tight before laying down and wrapping an arm around Hermione.

The other girls stiffened and tried to shrug off the other girls arm but Ginny was persistent. "It's not _your_ fault, Hermione."

"It is." She objected through her tears.

"No." Ginny's arm tightened. "It isn't. It's Voldemort's fault. Everything, all of the bad things that have happened to us, they're _his_ fault."

Hermione turned so that her back was to Ginny. She curled into a tight ball and waited. Though for what she wasn't certain. Finally after several minutes of the two lying there quietly she ventured to ask. "Ginny…do you still hate me?"

The red head girl tensed with surprise. Slowly she sat up into a sitting position and stared at her friend, with wide, round eyes. "I never hated you."

Hermione rolled over and sat up as well. "Yes you did." She looked down at her lap so that her hair fell in her face, hiding her emotions behind the natural screen. "You told me you did on Christmas."

"Hermione," Ginny placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I never hated you. I was angry with you, yes." She shook he head for emphasis. "But I never hated you."

"I wouldn't blame you for hating me." She persisted, shifting uncomfortably while wrapping her arms around her chest. "All I do is cause problems for your family. First Fred and George and now Ron. And I've hurt Ron so badly. I've made him miserable for so long. I…Like I said, all I do is cause problems for your family."

The two sat there a minute without speaking. Finally Ginny scooted closer and wrapped another arm around Hermione, refusing to release her when she tried to pull away. "Do you want to know what else you could do?" she waited a moment to see if Hermione would answer but when she remained silent Ginny went on. "You could make Ron very, very happy."

"Ginny…I…"

"I'm not going to tell you how to live your life Hermione. There are things you and Ron have to work out for your selves. And I _honestly do believe_ that you and Ron will have a chance to work them out. He's strong and just about as stubborn as you, if not more. He's not going to let you win this fight. He'll be back to finish it."

"How do you know?" Hermione bowed her head to look at her twiddling thumbs. "I thought he already gave up the fight and let me…you know…let me win."

"Oh, I think he _thought_ he did to." The ginger haired girl released her friend and gave her arm a comforting pat before she climbed out of the bed and went to her own.

"Ginny!"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Thank you." She smiled sadly at her friend. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Ron hung suspended between two Death Eaters. He hadn't the strength to move himself and so was being drug back to his cell. His head lolled forward uselessly, gravity pulling his once bright red hair into his eyes, the strands caked in grease, blood and dirt.

His body sagged toward the ground, his back bowed, his feet dragging worthlessly behind him. He had no strength to move his limbs. He had tried in vain to take a few steps on his own, but had collapsed from the effort.

His skin was shallow and pasty, his severe loss of blood the cause. Everyday they invented a new means of torture to use on him. Today he had been strapped to a pillar and his back had been battered with spells for more then an hour, the pale skin slowly giving way to a multitude of colors. His back was now a pallet of blacks, blues and purples and in some places sickly shades of yellow and green. They hadn't ceased their torment until finally the flesh had given way to welts and then lacerations. His body was sticky with blood and sweat when they put his shirt back on him and he knew there would be unbearable pain when next they tore it off him.

At last they came to the end of the hallway where his holding cell was located and the two thugs dragging him, tossed his body unceremoniously inside so that he landed in a painful heap on his back. He bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain as they left, one of them stopping to sneer before closing the door on him. Ron closed his eyes as he listened for the turn of the lock in the door and the retreat of footsteps. When he was sure they were gone, he let the tears come and using the last of his strength pulled his shirt over his head hoping to remove it before it dried to his skin. He cried out as the fabric was pulled away and some of the wounds were reopened.

He breathed deep for several minutes, trying to breath his way through the pain and stop the tears rolling down his sunken cheeks. He would be damned if he was going to let the sick ass holes know that they had gotten to him. He whipped his tears away before rolling over onto his stomach and opening his eyes. The room was bathed in darkness once more. They had taken the light and his only chance for escape.

Mustering his strength for another battle he began to pull himself across the small sell to the corner where the dirty pile of hay rested. Every muscle in his body protested in agony. His limbs felt useless and heavy, the muscles like marmalade. He clutched his right hand protectively to his chest, the bones still shattered from when they were crushed under Malfoy's boot.

The process was slow, but finally he managed to pull himself into the corner and curl into a tight ball, making certain that his back would not touch the wall or the bed of straw and waited. Any moment now he knew he would feel the penetrating cold and overwhelming helplessness that accompanied his Dementor guards' presences.

He could only fight of their affects for so long. Eventually it would always happen. The worst moment…the one he feared even more then when they came to take him from his cell. That one moment when despair took root and he was sane enough to realize that he was loosing his mind and knew he was helpless to do anything to stop it.

Ron cringed when he felt the first icy cold fingers of despair creep over him. They were coming. He curled reflexively into a tight ball in a vain attempt to protect himself from the Dementors's affect. Images began to invade his mind, becoming more and more bleak as the creatures drew closer to his door. Ron fought with the last of his strength, but their affect was too great. With a moan of despair he lost and was left sobbing alone in his dark, cold, damp cell.


	29. Back to the Granger's House

Chapter 29: Back to the Grangers' House

It was well past midnight and Gryffindor Tower had settled into a silent calm. The last of the students had abandoned their parchment and books or their cards and tricks in favor of their own warm beds and pleasant dreams.

A loan figure appeared at the bottom of the girls' dormitory staircase, clinging close to the wall and the protection of the deep shadows. The fire burned low in the grate, leaving most of the room drenched in darkness. Peaking her head around the corner, she waited just long enough to make certain that the common room was empty before she darted to the other wall, traveling through shadows so as not to be spotted.

She was dressed appropriately in black trousers, and a dark jumper. Her hair was bound back low on her head in a rubber band, the stray ends held into place by the dark cap she had donned. Slung over her shoulder was a large rucksack filled with things she thought might come in handy. She had chosen carefully, hoping that the dark colors would help act as a camouflage and so, unless one was looking specifically for her, she would remain almost invisible.

When she reached the base of the boys' dormitory steps, she hesitated a moment. She felt a shiver of uncertainty race up her spine but she shook it off. Stiffening her chin and squaring her shoulders she began the climb up. To much time had been wasted and it was running out.

Classes had already started at Hogwarts, seeing as all the students had returned, and in a few days they would begin at Dumrstrang. Continuing classes while Ron's fait was still unknown was gut wrenching enough, but the thought of dividing the group of them further was unbearable. She could not conceivably continue with school work and classes while waiting patiently like a good little girl for news of Ron's fate.

Which was why she was climbing the steps to the sixth year boy's dormitory at half past one in the morning. Because she needed to go and find him. She was well aware that Dumbledore would try and stop her if he knew what her intentions were and undoubtedly he was having all three of them watched. But she also knew that she couldn't live with herself if she didn't at least try. Ron, after all, would have done the same for her.

She reached the landing just outside the boys' dormitory. Without pause she reached out and gripped the handle, giving it a gentle turn so as to not make a noise and wake anyone up.

To her relief all five of the doormats were asleep. Her eyes traveled over them landing first on Harry. For a brief moment in time she had considered bringing him with, but had quickly set the notion aside. Harry was too important to risk, she knew that. And if he did leave to look for Ron, Order members would be called upon to find him. At least she was relatively under their radar and if they did come after her, it would be one, maybe two at the most. She wanted as many to continue looking for Ron in the off chance that one of them would find him before she did.

And if that weren't reason enough, the sight of Harry sleeping, sprawled across his bed, sealed his fate. He had of course tried not to let on, but she knew that he had not been sleeping well in the two weeks since Ron had been taken. That he was now was reason enough for her to leave him sleep, as troubled and fitful as it was. He thrashed about on his bed, throwing his covers and pillow to the floor with his flailing arms.

All Harry's doormats were sleeping as well. Neville and Seamus rested peacefully, their breath low and heavy, vibrating through the room in a gentle humm. Dean's rest however, was not so serene. He thrashed about, kicking off his covers and moaning incoherent words. She imagined he was still suffering nightmares from when the Death Eaters attacked his family.

Lastly she turned her sight on Ron's empty bed. She held her breath and listened. There was something not right and she couldn't instantly put a finger on it. It wasn't until a raspy snore escaped Neville's parted lips that she realized what it was. The room was to quiet. While Ron slept his thunderous snores usually filled the air. The room was simply to quiet and desolate without it.

When she was certain that none of the inhabitants had heard her open the door, she pushed the panel far enough that she could slip through the gap and gain the room. When she cleared the entrance she dashed for the trunk resting at the foot of Harry's bed.

She slowly lifted the lid, easing it open in a way to ensure that it did not make a sound. Finally she had it high enough that she could slip a hand between the gap and rifle around until her fingers grazed smooth, light weight material. Her fingers curled around it and she slowly eased it out of the trunk and tucked it securely under one arm before reaching into her pocket and extracting a single sheet of paper that she slid into the trunk in the cloaks place.

With that finished she lowered the lid then flung the cloak over her shoulders, making certain she was completely covered before she moved toward the door. She stopped just inside the portal and felt an eerie shiver run up her spine when she saw that the shaft of light spilling through the room did not have her shadow in it. Ignoring the sensation she lifted her head and gave one last look to Harry's bed.

"Goodbye, Harry." She murmured before turning and closing the door.

As soon the shaft of light was gone Harry snapped his eyes open and turned toward the door. "Goodbye, Hermione." He sighed as he tucked back into his pillow. "And Good luck."

"What do you mean you let her go?" Ginny demanded, rising to her feet in shock.

"Exactly what I said." Harry held his ground. "I let her go."

"With your cloak?" she questioned.

"With my cloak." He agreed.

Ginny's mouth gapped open and strange sputtering sounds began to pour out. "Why didn't you stop her?" She finally managed to shout, whirling around in her anger, unbothered that people were starting to watch them pecularily.

"Do you really think I could have?" he asked reasonably, taking hold of her hand and pulling her back onto the sofa beside him. "I happen to know for a fact," he lowered his voice, unlike Ginny, conscience of his house mates leaning ever so discretely closer trying to listen to their conversation, "that Hermione is a master at fully body binds, having personally seen her in action. And I didn't right fancy spending the rest of the night lying frozen on the floor."

Unable to contest his argument she tried a different avenue. "Then why didn't you go with her? You could have come for me and we could have gone after her."

"No Ginny," he sighed. "I couldn't have." He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "If Hermione had wanted us to go with her," Harry explained, "she would have asked us to come with."

"But…" her brain searched frantically, trying to find a way to pin the helplessness and anger on Hermione and Harry. "But she made a promise." Ginny finally stuttered. "Hermione never breaks her promises."

"No she doesn't. And she hasn't." Harry nodded his head when Ginny shook hers feverishly. "The only one of us who actually ever promised we wouldn't go looking for him was me. And on top of that, Hermione is the only one of us who _is_ of age and so can technically make decisions like that for herself."

The red head growled with frustration. "Why are you being so calm about all of this?" She pulled her hands free and rose to her feet once again. "She left us! She abandoned us!"

"No, Ginny. She didn't." Harry gained his feet and turned the young girl so that she looked at him. "She did what we couldn't. She went to look for Ron. If I had been in her place I would have done the same thing. I wouldn't have wanted you or Hermione with me either. I would have left you here where it was safe. Where I knew I wouldn't have to worry about you. Besides," he lowered his gaze so that he wouldn't have to look into Ginny's turbulent brown eyes. "I imagine Dumbledore already has a few Order members looking for her. I'm sure it won't be long until they find her and bring her back."

"If that's the case why did you let her go to begin with?"

"Because," he lifted his penetrating green eyes to hers, "I knew it was something that she _needed _to do…For all of us."

Sighing with defeat she collapsed onto the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest. "Where do you think she'll go?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "But, Hermione is smart…She'll have some semblance of a plan."

Hermione slowly lifted her eyes and suddenly found herself struggling to blink back tears. Her house didn't look any different then it usually did and despite her anxiety over seeing it mutilated and destroyed she was also fearful that someone had put it back to order. She desperately needed it to be the way it was two weeks ago when the attack had happened.

She strode up the short walk emotions rilled at the sight of it. It seemed surreal that so much damage had been done here and yet the house looked unscathed. Hermione drew Harry's cloak more tightly around her shoulders. She wanted to make it to the front door unseen by her neighbors and others who might be watching the house. She stopped on the front stoop and reached out a hand. She ran her fingers along the cool glass that had been set in place around the door, as well as the panel which had been mended, giving the impression from the outside that nothing unnatural had happened inside it's walls.

Taking a deep breath she slipped her key into the lock and turned it. The bolt slipped easily loose and the door swung open at her instances. The sight that met her eyes was both a blessing and a curse.

She stepped through the portal and closed the door, all the while trying to hold back the well of tears threatening to spill down her face. Everything was as it had been that day. The table lay in shards across the floor. Glass from the window and picture frames glittered in the low light spilling through the window. The room looked devastated. So unlike the tidy house that she remembered.

Hermione spent twenty minutes looking through what was left of her foyer; searching for clues but making certain not to move anything if she could help it. This was still a crime scene after all.

When her search of the downstairs proved fruitless she turned her sights on her bedroom. Taking a deep breath she mounted the stairs to the upper story. When she reached the landing she turned right and crept down the hall toward her door.

A hand flew to her mouth smothering her gasp of distress. Her door was gone and the frame and wall surrounding the portal was blackened and chard with spell damage. A new wealth of tears came to her eyes with the realization that Ron had truly been the only thing that stood between her and certain death. This wasn't the first time the thought had come to mind, but never before had it hit her so powerfully.

Mustering her strength and squaring her shoulders determinedly, she took the last steps to her room and stopped in the doorway as another wave of despair and hopelessness washed over her. She couldn't even recognize the room as her own anymore. All her books and rewards were destroyed, a good many of them burned or singed from wayward spells.

Her floor was covered with the contents of her desk and walls, her bed had been moved a good distance from its original spot, the book shelves were turned over; her pillows were torn, the feathers scattered across the bed and the floor near by.

Hermione suddenly fell to her knees, her hands coming up to stifle the sob threatening to come out. There was blood all over her room. It was on the corner of her desk, the window frame, the walls, her bookcase, the floor. In the center of her rung in front of her was a pool of dried blood and vomit. Her arms slowly wrapped around her middle and she crouched low over her knees, rocking back and forth as she cried. Tears leaked freely from her eyes, sliding along the bridge of her nose to land on the scarlet stain of her rug.

"Hermione," she felt a hand fall on her shoulder and she jerked away in fright, spinning around and drawing her wand as she went. "It's all right, Hermione." The familiar, soothing voice came again. "It's me." There was the sound of fabric moving and Remus Lupin's head appeared a short distance away from her.

"Professor?" She started with surprise. "What are you doing here? How did you know where to find me?"

"Ahh," his hovering head moved, indicating that he was taking a spot on the floor. "When you left the castle I knew you would be coming back here."

"But, why?"

"Because," he pulled the cloak off his shoulders and let it pool around him on the floor. "I knew you would be looking for clues… and this seemed to be the obvious place for you to start."

"All right," she conceded. "Professor…how did you know I was here?"

He slowly lifted his hand and pointed at her head, giving his own a nod. "Your hood fell out of place."

Hermione's hands flew to her head groping for the comforting feeling of the familiar material. Her eyes widened with panic as she started to rise to her feet. As if sensing where her mind was headed, Lupin help up a halting hand and said. "Don't worry, Hermione, no one saw you come in."

She lowered her hand uncertainly. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." He nodded, smiling with assurance. "The only reason I knew I wasn't the only person in the house was because I heard the front door open."

Following her previous professors lead she removed her cloak and set it aside as they settled on the floor facing each other.

They sat there a moment in slice, both of them feeling awkward and uncomfortable. "Do you have any questions for me, Hermione?" Lupin finally asked, startling Hermione.

"Yes." Her shoulders straightened as her confidence returned. She looked him in the eyes, demanding with her own that he tell the truth. "Is the order any closer to finding him?"

Remus Lupin sighed sadly, "That's a hard question to answer Hermione."

"Why?"

"Because, technically we know where he is…"Hermione's face lit up brilliantly and Remus was loath to destroy it. "Unfortunately, we have no way of getting to him."

"I don't understand." She slumped over her legs, catching her head in her hands. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Let me explain." He moved fractionally closer. "We know for certain he is being held in Malfoy Manor."

"But that's wonderful." She rocked forward on her legs. "Mr. Weasley has been there before. He can find it again, of course."

"No, he can't Hermione."

"What…oh…" the light faded from her eyes as realization struck. "Of course." She brushed the hair back from her eyes. "They've hidden it the same way Dumbledore hid Grimmauld Place, didn't they."

"Exactly." Remus agreed.

"But couldn't Professor Snape…"

"No." Remus shook his head. "Only a select few have had its location revealed to them, and Professor Snape isn't one of them. And even if he was, I'm sorry to say it, we couldn't risk him compromising his position to attempt anything. He's too vital to the Order and the war effort."

Rage blazed to life inside her at the older mans words. "And what about Ron!" she bound to her feet, glaring down furiously at the older man. "Isn't he important? He's Harry's and my best friend." Her voice cracked with tears. "You need Harry to win this damn war for you and he needs Ron. What do you think it's going to do to him if they kill Ron? Do you think he's going to help the wizards that couldn't even save his best friend?"

"Hermione…" Lupin rose unsteadily to his feet.

"No!" she jumped back out of his reach. "You might not be willing to do anything to help him but I'll be damned if I sit by and do nothing." She whirled around and started marching toward the door.

"Hermione Granger…Stop!" The unwavering dominance and authority in his voice made her pause. She slowly turned to face him, her cheeks flushed with anger.

"I understand, Hermione. I really do." He took a cautious step closer to her, afraid that she might bolt. "I would have done the same for James and Sirius and, Merlin help me, even Peter, if it had been within my power to do so."

"Well it _is_ in my power, so if you'll just excuse me." She made to turn but his voice halted her once again.

"Hermione it's _not_ in your power." He said forcefully, causing her to pause once again. In all the years that she had known him this was the first time she had heard him raise his voice in anger. "You think you're helping him, but you're not. Neither he nor Harry will benefit from this."

"But I…"

"The moment you get near Malfoy Manor you're dead. Do you understand that Hermione. You are a Mudblood to them. Nothing more, and nothing less. They will not spare you because they already have someone to lure Harry out of Hogwarts. Do you really think if they capture you they will keep you alive long enough for Harry to rescue you?"

"B-but Ron…"

"Is a pure-blood… He is a pure-blood and that is one of the only things that is keeping him alive." He griped her arms sternly and gave her a slight shake. "They are trying to break him, Hermione. Do you understand that? They are trying to break him so that he will join their side."

Her eyes widened in terror. "Ron would _never _join them. He would die first."

"I know that, and you know that. But they might not."

"Which is all the more reason for me to go to him." She wrenched her arms free of her former teachers grasp. "I have to save him."

"You _can't _save him, Hermione. You can't." He thrust his fingers into his long hair with aggravation. "What can you do that the Order has not? What will you gain by going there and sacrificing yourself? You can't save him. No one can. We've tried everything imaginable to get inside that house. There is nothing we can do."

"No!" She screamed, beating his hands away as she back up, not bothering to hide the tears leaking down her cheeks. "There has to be something." She spun about, falling to her knees and began rifling through the piles of stuff on her floor. "There has to be something here. Something we're over looking. There has to be." She tossed books and parchment aside as she continued her frantic search.

Her hand sliced open on a shard of glass, but Hermione didn't notice as she continued her search.

"Hermione," Lupin crouched down, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Harry needs you." He took her hand in his and used his wand to stop the flow of blood. "He needs you to be with him and he needs you to be strong."

She pulled her hand out of his grasp to cover her face. Hher entire body rocked back and forth as her shoulders shook with violent sobs. "Ron."

"Please Hermione…" he pleaded. "I can't force you to go back to Hogwarts, but…Harry needs you. And Ron would want you to be there for him. You know he would." Lupin moved closer and wrapped a tentative arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Do you know what has always made you three so strong?" Hermione shook her head, unable to answer trough her tears. "Your devotion and undivided loyalty to one and other, as well as your complete willingness to sacrifice and die for one and other. That's a very, very rare thing." She took a shaky breath, finding it impossible to gain control of her emotions. "Ron sacrificed himself for both _you_ and _Harry_. That is no small gift Hermione, and throwing yourself and the Death Eaters mercy is very poor way to repay him."

"You speak as though he's died."

"I'm sorry, that wasn't necessarily me intent." He let his arms drop from around her shoulders. "I just need to make you see the futileness of this. You're not helping Ron and you're not helping Harry."

"So…what?" She turned her head to glare at him. "You want me to go back to school and pretend like everything's all right? That my best friend wasn't taken? That they aren't torturing him at this very minute? Is that what you want me to do, because if it is…I can't. I can't pretend everything is all right."

"And _I _can't try and find a way to help Ron if I am forced to follow after you."

"You're still trying to help him?" she blinked in surprise.

"Of course we are." Lupin wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her to her feet gently. "We haven't abandoned, Ron. Not by any means. There are ten Aurors assigned by the ministry to find him, another ten or twelve from the Order, and about thirty or forty others who have volunteered to do it willingly when their not on assignment. Despite what you obviously believe, he is one of our top priorities and we will not stop until we've either found him or…"

"…receive word that he's dead." Hermione finished when Lupin did not.

He nodded his head sadly. "Indeed."

Hermione sucked in her bottom lip, gnawing on it while she thought. She could see the truth of her former professor's words. There really was nothing she could do, and Harry _did_ need her… But to just stop here and go back…it made her feel like she was giving up. Like she was abandoning him all over again. And the idea of going back to Bulgaria was unthinkable. She could not be so far away. Not now. Not when Harry and Ginny and…Ron needed her so much. She knew it was foolish, even wishful thinking on her part, but she felt that Ron could tell she was still in England. That she hadn't just abandoned him and gone back to Bulgaria. And in the slim chance that that was true, she wanted to be here when he came back.

"I can't go back to Bulgaria, Professor. I just…I can't"

"You have five days until you are suppose to return." His voice had returned to the same soft, understanding tone he usually used. "You don't have to make that decision yet."

"I'm not going back to Bulgaria." She crossed her arms stubbornly in front of her chest and tilted her chin up defiantly. "I'm going back to Hogwarts so I can be with Harry and Ginny."

Lupin shrugged tentatively. "If that's what you think is best."

"I do." Scooping up Harry's inviasbility cloak, Hermione turned back to the door, blocking her view of the other man, and so missed the slightest glimpse of a smile that stole across his lips before melting once again into a thin line.

He was weak, very weak and cold and had neither the strength or inclination to crawl the few steps to the corner where the moldy pile of putrid hay lay, waiting for him to creep inside and keep warm with. Instead, he curled into a tight ball near the door where he had crawled to the night before when they had brought him his small portion of bread and water. He had eaten what he could and hid the rest away for later; there was no telling when they would next feed him.

At that moment his stomach growled loudly, begging him to fill it with food. Ron moaned as he rolled as far as he could onto his throbbing back. It was still discolored with bruises and some of the wounds they had inflicted had not fully healed.

He dug into his pocket for the dry and crusty bread and greedily brought it to his lips. It wasn't until he swallowed his second mouthful that he realized what he was doing. He crammed the last bit of bread into his mouth before he rolled back onto his side and waited. He couldn't feel the familiar waves of despair…the Dementors must have retreated. Dread welled inside him as he struggled to push himself closer to the wall. The appsence of the Dementors could only mean one thing. One of them was coming.

They had left him alone for three days and while it was torment for him not knowing what was going on or what was going to happen next, another part of him had wistfully started to believe that they might leave him alone to the solitude. To never see light, never have the companionship of another person was maddening in of its self, but combine that with the affects of the Dementors and life became unbearable.

Still the Death Eaters hadn't come and taken him from his cell in days, which had allowed some of the wounds in his back to close and for some of the angry colors to recede. His hand was still shattered and useless and his legs had nearly no strength left in them. Despite everything, when he had the presences of mind to think it, he was still thankful that he was alive. As long as he survived there was always the chance that someone would come and save him.

The silence of his prison cell was disturbed by the sound of the bolt sliding free of its catch, echoing loudly in the stillness. The door burst open and the room was flooded with dim light emanating from the torch placed in the sconce outside his door. Ron feebly lifted a hand to block the light which was blaringly bright to his eyes which hadn't seen daylight in several days. He blinked fiercely as tears flooded his dry eyes and poured down his cheeks.

Finally when his eyes adjusted properly and he could see, he nearly groaned out loud. Draco Malfoy's sneering face was looking down at him from the doorway.

"What the hell do you want, Ferret?"

The sneer sharpened into a furious glare. "One would have thought you would have learned by now to hold your tongue in your superior's presences." The pale boy stiffened his spine and tilted his head in a disgustingly arrogant pose.

Ron closed his eyes as he turned to his other side, leaving the other boy his back. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

The oily smile reappeared on the other boy's pale face. "I've come to bring you news, Weasel." He stepped farther into the dungeon room, taking care not to let his cloak brush against anything inside. "It's about that Mudblood you demean yourself by spending time with." Ron stiffened as Hermione's face flashed through his mind. "Rumor has it…she's left Hogwarts." The red haired boy slowly turned over so that he could see Malfoy and watch for a hint of a lie on his face. "Word is, from a reliable source, she's left the school and is on her way _here_, right now, to try and rescue you."

Ron felt an instant sinking sensation around his heart. Hermione was on her way here. "Gods Hermione," he groaned under his breath, "I didn't think it would be you."

"Wha'd you say, Mudblood Lover?"

Ron sneered with loathing at his captor. "I didn't say anything to you, ferret face."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "You really are very _stupid, _Weaselbee." And helpless to do anything but tense his body for the blow, Ron watched the other boy draw his foot back and lash out by imbedding it in his chest.

All the air rushed out of him leaving him gasping in pain. There was a sharp stab in his side that worsened when he drew air into his lounges. He rolled onto his back, his body racked with a fit of cough. He clutched his side with his good hand and struggled to even out his breathing while Draco laughed from above.

"You bastard." Ron seethed through the pain.

The laughter died on Malfoy's lips, straightening into an evil sneer. Having finally lost all patience with Ron and his stubbornness, he squatted down in front of him and gripped him by the hair, wrenching his head up and giving it a slight shake when the red head refused to look at him. Ron bit his lip to keep from crying out but conceded to the other boy enough to look him in the eye.

"Why hasn't Potter left the school with the Mudblood?" He gave Ron's head another fierce shake for emphasis. "And why has it taken so long for your _friends,_" he spat out the word like it tasted foul, "to come after you?"

Ron remained stubbornly mute.

"Speak Weasel!" When he remained silent Malfoy thrust him away sharply so that Ron's head made contact with the hard floor. The pale boy straightened to his full height and began pacing the room, his eyes never leaving Ron's weak and curled form. "Why haven't they come for you? You, Potter and the rest of your pathetic friends rushed after that fool Black without thinking twice. Why haven't Granger and Potter at least done the same? They've known you longer." He continued, growing more aggravated with the red heads determinedly impassive reaction and stony face. "Or…" his eyes gleamed with malice, "do you think they have perhaps realized what I have known all along? That you are a nothing. You will never be anything special to anyone…Not even that Mudblood, know-it-all Granger would have you." Draco stopped his pacing when he saw a flicker of emotion in Ron's eyes.

"Struck a nerve, did I?" He resumed his low crouch in front of Ron and lowered his voice to a taunting whisper. "Bet that bothers you, doesn't it? That she preferred some duck footed, scowl faced Bulgarian to you. But why wouldn't she? You're poor, you're ugly, you're pathetic in potions and transfiguration. You're stupid and worthless and you will never…_never_…amount to anything…Just like your father."

Ron's fingers reflexively tightened into a fist. Only the knowledge that retaliation would result in a thorough beating stilled his hand. Instead he forced his eyes to stare straight ahead as if he were looking through Malfoy and not at him.

Disappointed with Ron's lack of response, Malfoy straightened to his full height, "Clearly solitary confinement hast loosened your tongue." He turned on his heel and marched toward the door. "Perhaps it is time that we reinstitute our…_information _sessions. Oh," he stopped in the doorway, "did I forget to mention that my Aunt Belatrix has arrived." Ron's eyes flared with the first flicker of real fear in weeks. "Perhaps she has ways of making you talk that father and I never thought of."

And with that he quitted the room, leaving Ron alone to agonize over what sick tortures Belatrix Lestrange would use on him next as Draco's footsteps faded down the hall. He had thought of course, that the tortures the Malfoys had developed were agonizing, but he was certain they would be nothing compared to the twisted cruelty of their insane cousin.

He could feel the panic rising in his chest as the seconds ticked by. Any moment now he was certain he would hear the door open at the end of the long corridor outside his cell and she would come after him. And worse, he now had Hermione's safety to agonize over. She was out there somewhere unprotected, trying to find him. And there was no doubt in his mind that not a single Death Eater would spare her life if they came across her…not if they still had him tucked away in this hell they had provided.

He snapped back into the present with the sound of the door opening at the other end of the long corridor. His eyes flew to his own and his heart leapt into his throat. Due to his hasty retreat Draco had failed to confirm the door had latched and light was still spilling into his cell, letting in enough glow to see by.

This was his chance. He was never going to have another like it. Heart beating with the maddening speed of a racehorse, he rolled onto his knees and painfully crawled with as much speed as he could muster to the pile of hay sitting in the corner.

He kept his ears trained on the door and the sound of the voices growing distinctly closer as he reached the pile of hay and thrust his good hand to the bottom. He groped around frantically. He could hear every word they were saying now. Belatrix was describing to Draco and Lucious some of the methods she was planning on using on him. He physically blanched at her descriptions but forced her words out of his head so he could continue searching.

Finally his fingers grazed against the sheet of paper he was searching for and he had to bite down on his lip to keep from shouting with joy.

He pulled it free and flicked it open. It was upside down and he frantically flipped it over so that it was right side up. In the faint light he skimmed the tiny script until he found the line he was looking for. They were just outside his door when he felt the tug behind his navel and the familiar whoosh of air as he left his dungeon prison behind.


	30. Hogwarts

Chapter 30: Hogwarts

Ron cried out in agony as his derelict right hand made jarring contact with the floor. He reflexively pulled it close to his body, causing him to lose his purchase and topple off the bed and on to his back with a loud, painful thud. The air rushed from his lungs in an agonizing gasp. It felt as though a knife had savagely been imbedded deep in his lungs.

Moaning with pain he lifted his head to look down his long torso to where he had been kicked and cringed at what he saw. There was a deep indent in his chest, purple and black in color and the skin surrounding it was beginning to tinge nauseating shades of yellow and green. He let his head fall back as another sharp pain stabbed his side with an intake of breath. He half expected it to land on hard, stone floor but when it instead landed on a soft rug and scattered feathers, his eyes flew instantly open and he looked around with joyous disbelief. He turned his head slowly from side to side taking in the devastating remains of Hermione's room. Cleansing tears of joy and relief rushed to his eyes and poured down his cheeks when he fully accepted the truth. He was finally free.

When Hermione and Lupin reached Hogwarts castle, night had fallen and the students had made there way back to their houses for the night. Hermione glanced awkwardly at her former teacher from the corner of her eye. The two had conversed comfortably and openly for most of the journey as if nothing was amiss. Lupin seemed to be genuinely interested in listening to her explanations of different things she had leaned while at Durmstrang and was more then willing to share some of his own gained knowledge and insight with her and to help explain what he could about spells and enchantments she did not quiet understand.

Hermione had of course known what his motive was the entire time. He was keeping her mind off of Ron and her failure to rescue him. And despite everything, she found herself terribly grateful for that. She hadn't realized how much, however, until they reached the main entrance to Hogwarts and Lupin fell silent at her side. Immediately after passing through the castle gates he put a firm hand on her shoulder and directed her through the grounds and passage ways leading to Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione had felt completely bewildered and at a loss with the sudden change in her old professor. That was until they came across the first students walking the corridors. They were two prefects on their rounds. Hermione supposed they must be fifth years for she didn't recognize them from the previous year. She and Lupin strode silently past and it wasn't until they were out of sight that Hermione dared to look back at him to find a look of great displeasure on his face. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

In past years she had grown to consider Professor Lupin as a kind of friend, and to see him frowning at her in disappointment and treating her like a student once again was a deep blow. She was about to turn away with dejection when she saw the ever so slight twitch at the corner of his lips followed by a conspiring wink. Hermione tried with some difficulty not to smile back in relief and gratitude, so she turned back around and forced a frown onto her lips to help uphold the picture he had painted. She understood after all that Lupin, foreseeing the wave of gossip that would overtake the castle upon her return, was trying to help her save face with the other students. Perhaps now no one would accuse her of giving up too easily or coming back because she was scared, it would seem that her return was not her choice.

Hermione floated on a cloud of semi relief until they reached the portrait of the fat lady. Standing outside and looking more furious then Hermione had ever seen her before, was Professor McGonagall. Her lips were pressed tight in a thin line of displeasure, causing them to almost disappear. Her eyes were narrow slits with anger. Without saying a word to Hermione sHHersssssthdolighsdolisdhfgfolisdhfhe muttered the password to the fat lady and the portrait swung open. She pointed a finger at the gap in the wall. "In." She ordered.

A cold chill ran down Hermione's spine as she hurried over the lip into Gryffindor house. Lupin's cool anger had been hard enough to handle when he found her earlier that day, and within the castle walls it had been for show. McGonagall's, she was certain, was far more real and intense which made it that much more terrifying.

"Thank you for returning her, Remus." McGonagall's voice was tight with barley restrained anger. "It stills my heart to think what would have happened if the Death Eaters had found her first." Hermione got the distinct impression that those words were meant more for her benefit then Professor Lupin's.

"Don't be too hard on her Minerva," Lupin, who had been watching Hermione, saw the hunching of her shoulders in humiliation, "She was only trying to do the right thing."

"Indeed." The older witch nodded curtly, politely dismissing her former colleague. "Good night Remus, and thank you again." The sound of Lupin's feet retreating down the hall was silenced by the portrait swinging closed behind Professor McGonagall as she stepped into Gryffindor Tower. "Well, Miss Granger. Welcome back."

Hermione lowered her head at the frosty, unwelcoming tone in her professor's voice. She slowly turned to face the angered woman, keeping her eyes diverted from her head of house, afraid to see the anger and disappointment she was sure would be there. "Professor."

"You will come to my office first thing tomorrow morning." She instructed, leaving no room for argument.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione nodded solemnly.

"If I hear you put so much as one toe out of the tower for the rest of the night…" She let the threat hang unfinished in the air.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione nodded meekly. "I won't. I promise."

When she had the young girl's agreement, McGonagall turned briskly on her heels and left. She was on her way to the Headmaster's office to affirm her pupil's safe return to the castle.

Inside the common room the ten or so students who were still awake were staring at her with varying stages of curiosity, admiration and shocked disbelief that Hermione Granger, lead candidate for next years Headgirl, was being called to the Head of House's office for punishment.

Hermione could feel color flooding her cheeks. "What?" She barked at those staring, "It's not as if I haven't been in trouble before." Sensing another explosion on Hermione's part most of the students quickly turned away to gather their belongings and make for their dormitories. She glared angrily at those who chose to stay, daring them to utter a single word. When she was satisfied with their silence she made her way to Harry and Ginny who she had just spotted sitting near the fire. "Hello Harry. Ginny." She greeted as she collapsed onto the sofa beside Harry, arms crossed over her chest.

"Hello Hermione." He lifted an arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her tight to his side and resting his head on top of hers in a gentle hug. "How are you?"

Hermione sighed heavily. "I'm all right…I guess."

"Well, I'm glad your back." He said uncomfortably, not knowing what else to say. "Ginny is too." He offered, nudging the red head girl in the side. "Aren't you Ginny?"

In stead of answering, the youngest Weasley crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and glared at them both before turning her head away angrily.

Harry sighed heavily. He wasn't sure he could handle two very angry girls on his own. "Don't mind her, Hermione," He assured when he saw the bewildered look on his friend's face. "Ginny's just miffed because you didn't bring us with."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. The red head turned abruptly in her seat, her eyes blazing with rage and shooting daggers at the black haired boy. "Do _not_ speak for me, Harry Potter." She turned on Hermione suddenly, her brown eyes turning cold with anger. "I am not _just _miffed because you didn't bring us along. I am furious." Her chin quivered as tears of rage and worry that she had been fighting all day formed in her dark brown eyes. "Do you know how worried Harry and I have been? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you out there, all alone?"

"Ginny, please?" Harry tried to place a soothing hand on her shoulder.

"No." She threw his hand off, her eyes never leaving Hermione. "I miss him too, Hermione." Tears slid down her cheeks. "He's _my_ brother, damn it. _My brother._ But I am not so foolish that I would go running after him, out there," she flung her hand toward the window, "where it isn't safe."

"I seem to remember you saying you would have gone with."

Ginny rounded on Harry furiously. "Yes, I would have gone _with, _not alone." She turned back to her curly haired friend. "Never alone. _Especially…_not if I were you, Hermione. What you did was on par with trying to committing suicide. Do you realize that? Do you have a death wish?"

"You know what, Ginny?" Hermione's voice cracked with a combination of anger and tears. "I've already heard this all from Professor Lupin, so if you don't mind I would rather not here it from you too."

"Fine," he voice was cold and heavy with hurt. The red head slammed the book that had been lying open on her lap closed. "I know when I'm not wanted." She tucked the tome under her arm and quickly disappeared up the girl's staircase, her feet sounding heavily on the steps.

At the sound of a distant door slamming, Harry, who had instinctually risen to go after her, sank back into his seat with a heavy sigh. He turned his head to the side so that he could look at Hermione. "She was really worried about you, Hermione. We both were." His head shook softly back and forth. "You should have seen her this morning after she found your letter. She was ready to follow after you. Nothing was going to stop her. And then… when she found out I 'let you go'…"

"You didn't _let _me go, Harry." Hermione cut him off stubbornly. "But," she amended when he raised a brow at her, "you shouldn't have told her you were awake."

Harry jerked with surprise. "You knew?"

"Of course I did." Hermione confirmed. "You woke up when I opened your trunk." She leaned toward him and said in a low, reticent voice. "I don't make it a habit of speaking to sleeping people, Harry. That would be a waste of time and rather foolish."

"Yes well," Harry chuckled softly, cutting himself off with a cough to clear his throat. "Like I said… don't worry about Ginny, she's more hacked with me for that then anything else."

Hermione nodded her understanding and the two friends fell into comfortable silence while the common room continued to slowly empty. After fifteen minutes of staring silently into the fire, Harry ventured to ask what had been on his mind since she had left the night before. "Hermione," she turned her chin so she could see him. "How far did you get before…?"

"I made it to my house." Hermione came in, rightfully interpreting Harry's unfinished question. "That's where Professor Lupin found me."

"Did you find…"

"No." She shook her head sadly. "There wasn't time to find clues. Besides," she shrugged, "the Order has already gone over every inch of that house. There's nothing left _to _find."

"So," Harry audibly swallowed, preparing to ask the question he was most anxious to know, "you have no idea where he is?"

Hermione looked away as a battle raged to life inside her. One part of her knew that Harry had just as much right to know where Ron was as she did, and Lupin _hadn't_ told her not to tell Harry… But… there was also that part of her, that much stronger part, that was her desire to protect Harry at all cost. That combined with logic, which argued that if Harry knew where Ron was nothing on this earth would stop him from going after him, there was little option. She knew she could never let him go off alone, not if she had the power to go with him and try and protect him. Besides, if Dumbledore and the Order couldn't penetrate Malfoy Manor what chance did she or Harry have?

"No." she shook her head, coming to a decision. "I have no idea where he is…" her eyes drifted from the fire to her lap where she awkwardly played with the fabric of her trousers. "Like I said before, there was nothing left in my room to find once I got there."

"Yes… Yes of course." Harry's shoulders sagged as the last threads of hope slipped through his fingers. "Well," he glanced at his watch. "Would you look at the time?" He snapped the Quidditch play book he had been reviewing closed and rose to his feet. "I think I'll go upstairs and try and get a few hours of sleep."

"All right." She watched him walk solemnly away. "Good night, Harry." she called feebly to his retreating back.

"Good night, Hermione."

Ron crawled unsteadily toward the table that used to sit beside Hermione's bed, taking hold of the ledge with his left hand and pulling himself to his knees. He thought he remembered something called a lamp that use to sit on it, and how when he turned a little knob it would light up the room. Darkness had fallen since he arrived at the Granger's house and what was worse; when he landed he had lost his hold on the letter and now had no clue where it was amongst the other papers and books littering the floor. He would need to find light if he were going to see it, let alone use it tonight.

Ron growled with frustration when he found the lamp on the floor at the base of the wall in pieces. Turning over, Ron slid to the floor with his back leaning against the table. If only he had his wand this wouldn't be a problem. He snorted with irony. If he had had his wand on him he wouldn't have spent the past two weeks in that decrepit room because he hadn't enough light to see by.

He dug his fingers into his fiery red hair and tugged it with frustration. He could sit here all night and wait until morning when there was enough light to see by… but now that he had come this far he needed to go the rest of the way. He needed to get to Hogwarts so they could send someone after Hermione. They needed to find her before something happened to her.

The image of Hermione lying on the floor surrounded by Death Eaters being tortured the way he had before they finally killed her spurred him to his feet though he lost his footing several times on his way up. He would not let that happen, not if he had the chance to stop it. When he gained his feet he stood there several minutes, using the table to help him keep his balance, trying to see through the gloom of the room. Turning in a slow circle his eyes caught on the gentle flood of light spilling through the drawn curtains. He stumbled toward the window and wrenched the curtains open the rest of the way.

He moved to the side of the window so that the light could fully spill in. He let his eyes wonder over the room and that's when he saw the little white square near the hole in the wall that was once the door. He had a vague memory of his father explaining to him how Muggles had this light…button that worked like a really bright candle. He wondered if that square was the same thing. Deciding that there was only one way to find out, Ron stumbled across the room.

A loud bang disturbed the silence of the night and a wand was instantly drawn in preparation of the new arrival. Tonks narrowed her eyes in the darkness trying to see who had apperated onto the guarded property. As she drew closer to the spot the sound had originated from a familiar outline came into focus.

"Remus?" The powder blue haired girl called softly as she lowered her wand slightly, though still keeping it at attention, ready to strike if the other person proved to be foe.

"Yes, _Nymphadora_," Remus stepped into the moonlight so that she could properly see him. "It's me."

Sighing with relief she lowered her wand and pocketed it. "Did you have any troubles bringing her back?"

"No." He moved into place beside his partner. "Everything went smoothly." He scanned the small yard with his observant eyes. "Was there any trouble here?"

"No." she shook her head. "It's been quiet since you left." She glanced up at him then back at the house. "Do you really think anyone else will come here tonight?"

"I don't know." He kept his eyes focused on the house. Something didn't feel right in the pit of his stomach. "Hermione did. And we know the Death Eaters are out looking for her. It stands to reason they would come here as well."

Tonks glanced over at Lupin cautiously from the corner of her eye. The smile that usually graced her face had been replaced with a concerned frown. "How is she?"

"Hermione?" The older man sighed heavily when she nodded, his long, graying hair swayed from side to side as he shook his head. "I've never seen her like this, Tonks." The worry and concern was evident in his voice. "This isn't like her. I thought…"

"Harry was going to be the one to go after him," Tonks aptly cut him off. "And that Hermione would be the voice of reason that would hopefully convince him to stay in the castle where it's safe."

"Exactly." He agreed.

"That's because," she turned and started to walk away, "you were under estimating her feelings for Ron."

"Tonks, I…" he took a step to follow after her but stopped suddenly. Slowly he turned back to the house and narrowed his eyes, focusing on the upstairs window.

"Yes, Remus. You what?"

He pressed a finger to his lips indicating that she should be quiet. Understanding immediately Tonks fell quiet and withdrew her wand. She hurried back to Lupin's side and tilted her head up to better see the window. "What is it, Remus?" she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Are you certain no on entered that house while I was gone?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because," he pointed to Hermione's window. "The drapery just moved and I think I saw someone in the window."

"What?" her face went lax with confusion. "That's not possible. I set the appropriate charms. I've been watching all the windows and doors. If someone forced their way into that house I would know." She took several steps toward the darkened building. "It's not possible."

But at that moment, as if to prove her wrong, the window they were watching lit bright with light from the inside.

"Damn." The two adults took off at a run toward the house, Remus pulling his wand as he went. Tonks reached the back door first and stopped just long enough to unlock it with "Alohamora" before the two rushed inside.

Remus who had gone through the door first, took the lead slowing his pace slightly as he pushed open the door to the kitchen and began to make his way down the hall. Tonks instinctually moved in behind him, staying close with one hand pressed to his back to act as a guide as she looked around, acting as his cover.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase they saw that light was flooding the hallway, illuminating it with light from the distant door. They began their journey up, clinging to the shadows, their backs pressed up against the wall. When they reached the landing Tonks pulled Remus to a stop. "Wait." She mouthed. She wrapped him smartly on the head and his body slowly began to blend in with the wall behind him.

Understanding what she had done, he repeated the wand movements on her and soon she too began to dissolve and blend in with the background like a chameleon. Satisfied that they were fairly well protected, Remus took hold of her arm and pulled her into movement behind him.

They were drawing closer to the blown-open door. From the distance they were at the could hear the sound of papers rifling and books being tossed aside. They heard a soft, frustrated voice mutter "Damn. Where is it?" from inside the room and they crept closer. They could now see the legs, bottom and lower back of a person hunched over on the floor, his head out of sight beyond the door frame. Remus's eyes narrowed when he saw the crisscrossing of lash marks on the person's back. Curiosity picked he moved closer and Tonks hurried to catch up.

It wasn't until they were a few paces away from the door when they heard a shout of triumph and knew it was past time to act. They rushed through the open portal and while Remus cast a disarming charm, Tonks cast the full body bind. Ron tipped stonily to his side, landing with a loud thud.

"Merlin!" Tonks gasped, taking a hesitant step forward, her eyes wide with shock. "Is that…Remus, is that who I think it is?"

Ron heard the heavy fall of feet draw near. "Ron?" He heard a low, masculine voice ask. The feet stopped behind him. He could feel the pressure of a large hand on his shoulder, drawing him on to his back. Despite his frozen state, Ron could feel relief course through him when Remus Lupin's face came into focus above him. "Tonks," Lupin called over his shoulder, not bothering to turn and look at her as he released Ron from the body bind. The old werewolf's face melted into a smile as he looked down at the red haired boy in front of him. "Send a message to Dumbledore, immediately."

Minerva McGonagall looked up from the paper she was correcting when there was a soft knock at her office door. "Come in." She called sternly. The door creaked open and Hermione's brown, curly head peeked around the side of the door. The calm look that had been on her face moments ago melded into a disappointed scowl. She set her quill aside and shuffled the papers into a neat pile. "Yes, come in Miss Granger."

Taking a steadying breath Hermione pushed the door open timidly giving herself enough room so that she could slip through.

"Please close the door." The transfiguration teacher instructed in a voice the made it cleared she was in a foul mood.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione complied immediately, closing the door with a solid thud before moving quickly toward the desk.

The older witch motioned toward the single chair sitting in front of her desk. "Please, have a seat."

Feeling incredibly foolish and more then a little ashamed, she slid into the chair and lowered her eyes so that she wouldn't have to see the disappointment in McGonagall's eyes.

The stern professor opened a tartan tin sitting on the corner of her desk and held it out to Hermione. "Have a biscuit."

"No thank you." She declined politely.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Professor."

"I didn't see you at breakfast." She observed, holding the tin out once again. "Have a biscuit."

Feeling it would be rued to turn down the offer again, she took a single biscuit from the tin and bit of a small bit of the corner, the sweet crumbs catching in her throat as she swallowed.

Nodding with satisfaction McGonagall set the tin close to Hermione before crossing her hands and placing them precisely on the desk. "You know why you are here of course.

Hermione's shoulders raised slightly around her ears. "Yes Professor."

The old witch nodded. "Then I would like you to explain to me why exactly you thought it was wise to leave the safety of the castle?"

Hermione's cheeks began to stain a dull pink. "You wouldn't understand, Professor."

"No," she agreed. "Perhaps I wouldn't." She pushed her chair back in the first real example of anger Hermione had seen her display since starting Hogwarts. She rose angrily to her feet, her eyes never leaving her young pupil. "You have always proven yourself to be a wise person and have shown time after time your capabilities in using common sense. I have never known you to be this irrational and to act so hastily. Which is why I must wonder what on earth has possessed you to conduct yourself like this now? What were you thinking to leave the safety of the castle, Miss Granger?"

Hermione released her bottom lip from between her teeth where she had caught it at the beginning of her teacher's tirade. She looked up into McGonagall's expectant face and found herself being flooded with defiance. She straightened her shoulders and jutted her chin stubbornly. "Ron would have done the same for me."

"Yes," she agreed. "I believe he would have. But Mr. Weasley also doesn't exercise the same forethought or consideration of the consequences as you do. He is far too quick to action and is careless when it comes to…"

Hermione bound furiously to her feet, her fists clenched angrily at her side. "Don't you dare speak that way about Ron. You have no idea …he's the most…you will never meet anyone as…as loyal and…and…and as giving as Ron."

"Miss Granger, settle yourself." Professor McGonagall ordered sharply. "There is no reason to get upset."

"Yes there is!" Hermione shouted, completely taking McGinagall by surprise. "Don't you see? I had to go after him! I had to at least try! It was my fault! All of it!" She turned away from her teacher and began pacing the room, needing to physically work off some of her aggression and her anxiety. "You were here. You know how miserable I have made him all year…and I wouldn't forgive him. Even when he asked me to I wouldn't. He…he begged me and I wouldn't. And…" The tears that had been flooding her eyes broke free to spill down her pale cheeks and she felt a fresh wave of shame for crying in front of her favorite teacher. "He wouldn't have been at my house, Professor, if I hadn't asked him to come. And he might have gotten away if I had listened to him and left when he asked me to." She whipped her tears away furiously. "I couldn't live with the guilt anymore. Don't you understand? The Order hadn't found him, neither had the Aurors and…I couldn't live with myself any longer. I _had_ to go and look for him." She seemed to diminish in size at the end of her speech. "He would have done the same for me, Professor. And I had to do the same for him."

McGonagall's features softened slightly, her frown lessened and became more a look of pity for the young girl. "Be that as it may, Miss Granger. It wouldn't…" The older witch was suddenly cut off when there was a flash of bright green light from her fireplace and Dumbledore's head suddenly appeared in the dancing, emerald flames.

"Minerva, I…oh, Miss Granger." The Headmaster's floating head tipped forward in a bow of greeting. "I didn't know anyone else was here." His eyes twinkled brightly and his lips quirked slightly at the corner. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Hermione turned away from the old mans sparkaling eyes, unable to stand the joy and happiness she saw brightly there.

"Is there something I can do for you, Albus? Or do you think it could possibly wait until after I've finished having a word with Miss Granger."

"No, Minerva. I think now would be a perfect time to tell you." The old wizard's pale blue eyes left the transfiguration teacher and came to rest on the other occupant in the room. The smile that had been dancing on his lips spread into a full grin. "I thought you would like to know that more then one of your missing pupils have been found."

Hermione's breath stopped in her throat. She whirled around to face the fire, one hand clutched tight over her racing heart while they other groped blindly for support on the back of the nearest chair. McGonagall moved hesitantly toward the fire.

"Albus…do you mean…"

Dumbledore nodded his head in the affirmative. "Remus and Nymphadora found him late last night. Mr. Weasley is now resting comfortably in the hospital wing."

Hermione hesitated a mere moment as joy seeped into her heart. Without waiting to be dismissed she turned on her heel and fled into the hall, ignoring McGonagall's call behind her.

She raced down the corridors and up the stairs colliding with students on their way to lessons, not bothering to stop and apologize. Her mind was solely on Ron and her desperation to see him again. To physically affirm that he was safe and whole, and that he wasn't going anywhere.

When she reached the hospital Hermione threw open the mammoth double doors that guarded the entrance with such force that they slammed into the walls behind them. The sound reverberated off the stone walls and echoed back to her in the nearly empty hospital wing.

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, hustling forward angrily, her lips pursed in a sever frown. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Where is he?" Hermione rushed forward, surprising the matron into stepping back a few paces. "Where is Ron?"

"Miss Granger," the old matron bristled, "Please lower your voice. This is a hospital…"

"Where is he?" Hermione interrupted, surprising the nurse further when she latched onto the older woman's arm and shook her slightly.

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey snapped harshly.

"Hermione?" A familiar voice called tentatively from behind a curtain divider.

The frantic girl froze at the sound of her name. She slowly turned to the curtained area, pushing past the matron to walk slowly toward it. Madam Pomfrey tried to scold her but Hermione was unable to hear the matrons voice over the rapid beating of her heart, which drowned out all sounds as it rushed past her ear. With fingers numb with cold, she reached out and took hold of the curtain, pulling it back so she could see around. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until it came rushing out on a sigh of relief at finally seeing his face and his achingly familiar blue eyes.


	31. My One and Only

Chapter 31: My One and Only

"Ron?" Hermione took a hesitant step past the curtain. Her heart gave a wild flutter in her chest when his lips turned up at the corner in his familiar, lopsided grin. "Ron!" She rushed the bed and threw her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tight to her body as she tucked her head into his neck. "Oh my, God." Her arms tightened as tears of relief fell from her eyes and onto the exposed skin of his shoulder. "It's you." She pulled away to look into his eyes, her fingers brushing his dirty, though still fiery red hair back on his head before tracing the gaunt angles of his face and the broad expanse of his shoulder. "It's really you." She fell back into his arms, hiding her face in his shoulder once again.

"Of course it's me." He forced a laugh past his lips trying to lighten the mood even while lifting his arm to rest across her back in a comforting hug. "Who else were you expecting?" His arm tightened across her shoulder as he savored the feeling of holding her in his arms. His heart soared in his chest. He could feel her there, lying against him just as well as the pain of his shattered hand, trapped uselessly between them, and yet besides physically feeling her warmth and his pain, he still expected this to be some illusion that the Death Eaters had concocted to further torture him, and if it was he was going to cling to it for dear life.

"Really!" Hermione sprung away from him at the affronted tone in Madam Pomfrey's voice as she entered the enclosed area. "I highly doubt this is appropriate behavior. Mr. Weasley, we still haven't dealt with your hand and…"

"Madam Pomfrey," Ron broke in, interupting the old matron. "My hand has been like this for two weeks, and I haven't seen Hermione in just as long. Don't you think it can wait a few minutes more while Hermione and I talk?"

Casting about with curiosity, Hermione lowered her eyes to his hand lying limply on his exposed chest. A hand flew up to stifle her gasp as her eyes widened with horror. Ever so gently she lifted his arm at the wrist, turning it over tenderly to see the odd contortions and unnatural flatness of his palm as well as the odd angles of his fingers and joints.

The old nurse's eyes floated between the two teenagers a minute in indecision, but she finally relented giving her head a curt nod. "Just a few minutes then. Your back still needs another application of salve."

Knowing that she wouldn't like what she was about to see Hermione refocused her attention on the odd discoloring and the puckering of his skin at his rib cage as well as the lacerations and lash marks across his abdomen. She lowered the hand that was clapped over her mouth to gently touch the afflicted skin. Ron winced in pain causing Hermione to snatch her hand away immediately. "My God, Ron, what have they done to you?" She sank onto the bed at his hip.

Ron tried to wave away her concern, humbly dismissing it by saying. "Strange isn't? Madam Pomfrey can mend cracked ribs, remove bones and grow them back. But she can't get rid of a few bruises."

Ignoring his attempt at humor, Hermione refocused on his disfigured right hand, taking it tenderly in her lap. She ran her fingers soothingly over the dry, brittle skin. "What happened to your hand?"

"That's not important." He tried to pull it away to hide out of sight but she held firm to his wrist.

"Ron!" She looked beseechingly into his bright blue eyes. "What happened to your hand?"

The redhead sighed in defeat and relinquished his struggle to extract his wrist from her grip. "Lucius Malfoy happened." Her sad brown eyes snapped up to his and caught. Try as he might he couldn't look away nor did he protest when she took his left hand in her own, offering what comfort and support she could. "I was trying to fight them off, Mione, but I… I couldn't. I was rubbish against the two of them." He looked away from her in shame, feeling horribly inadequate. "I dropped my wand," he explained, "and when I tired to grab for it Lucius stepped on my hand. Hard. I could hear every bone snap and grind as it broke. Madam Pomfrey says there's only one or two bones that aren't damaged."

Her brows furrowed in aggravation. "Why hasn't she tried to fix it?" Hermione gazed down at the disfigured hand and had to physically restrain herself from blanching. "This looks horribly painful."

"We were discussing what options I had when you stormed in." Ron smiled amusedly at her but the smile quickly died away when the concerned look remained on her anxious face. "Pomfrey says there are so many bones broken that it might be difficult to mend properly. She thinks the best course might be to remove all of them and start over."

"You mean re-grow them like she did for Harry?" Hermione asked, the feeling of dread and guilt tightening the knot in her stomach.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, chuckling slightly. "I suggested we bring back Lockhart to do it. He's a right expert, you know?" Head lowered, Ron lifted just his eyes, sparkling with humor, up to her. "Madam Pomfrey didn't think that was very funny."

"Ron," Hermione tried to scold but found it quiet impossible when her own lips were twitching fiercely at the corners. "That isn't funny." She looked away from his laughing blue orbs in a vain attempt to maintain control. The mirth died however when her eyes stopped on a wide slash across his chest.

"This looks very painful?" She leaned in close to the wound and began running her fingers gently over his skin, exploring the cuts and scars of his flesh. She found a particularly nasty one that started just bellow his left breast plate and curved down across his side and onto his back. She tried to follow the line of the scar but Ron squirmed further into the bed. "Ron, let me see." She instructed when he continued to resist her.

"Hermione, no. I…"

"Let me see." She ordered more firmly, affectively silencing his argument. Using more strength then he realized she had, Hermione turned him over onto his side and gasped with horror when she saw the many lines and gauges marring his back. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she physically blanched, barley restraining her stomach from dispelling its contents.

There were so many wounds, several of which hadn't sealed properly, and many that hadn't sealed at all. Some of the lacerations had grown infected from not being treated and were now an unnatural, nauseating color. Tears flooded her eyes once again and her shoulders began to shake. Horrible images flooded her brain of the different ways the wounds may have been inflicted.

Ron began to curl into a tight ball. "I tried to tell you you didn't want to see that." Hermione could barely hear his muffled voice when he spoke. "Madam Pomfrey had to leave the room when she first saw it."

"Ron," she chocked. "I am so sorry." She reached out a hand and softly laid it against one of the many wounds, snatching it away as if it had burnt her. Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably as a wave of guilt flooded her soul. "This is my fault."

Ron felt a tightening in his stomach at the sound of her tears. "Hermione, no." he turned over onto his back so he could see her once again. "Don't cry, please. I…"

"Why did you do that?" She shouted suddenly, taking him by surprise with her abrupt outburst of anger.

"What?"

"Why did you do that?" She screamed, flinging herself away from the bed. "What were you…Why?" She thrust her fingers into her hair as she turned about to face him. "They wanted me, Ron. Me!" She placed a hand over her heart. "They didn't want you. You didn't have to suffer like that. I mean…I don't understand why you would … Why would you …sacrifice yourself like that for me? I don't understand."

"Mione, please." He held a beseeching hand out to her but she stepped further away from it.

"No." she shook her head frantically. "No. Just…just stay away from me." She chocked on a sob. "All I do is hurt people. Especially you. Your family must hate me. First Fred and George, now you"

"Mione, stop it." Ron ordered but she ignored him, continuing her self deprecating tirade.

"It's true. Year after year all we do is fight and…and…I know the only reason why you put up with me is because of Harry." She half heartedly whipped at the tears streaming down her cold, pale cheeks. "I understand why you don't like me. I really do. I would hate me to."

"Mione, stop it."

"No." She sank onto the chair that was reserved for visitors and drew her knees up to her chest. "I understand, Ron. I really do. I don't deserve your friendship. I…"she covered her eyes with her hands, her shoulders shook violently with her tears as all the anxiety, fear and guilt she had been coping with came to a head. "You should have just let the troll have me." She murmured under her breath, truly believing it with all her soul.

Ron's heart clenched inside his chest at the sight of her curled into a tight ball, sobbing uncontrollably. Something Harry had said before he left for Hermione's house two weeks ago flashed through his brain. _'Please don't make her cry again. I hate watching her cry. She's so strong and level headed most of the time that when she does…it's really rather scary.'_ Harry was right. Watching Hermione like this was terrifying. She was supposed to be the strong one. And making him feel worse was the fact that he didn't know what to do to help her. He had never been very good with tears, most of all hers.

Ron swung his legs over the side of the bed, which took some effort as he only had the use of one hand. When he was settled at the edge and was certain he wouldn't loose his balance and tip over, he reached toward her with his left hand.

Hermione flinched when she felt the sudden wait on her head. She looked up just as Ron's long fingers began to run through the soft strands. "Ron," her voice cracked with uncertainty. "What are you doing?"

Ron waited a minute to speak as he continued to run his fingers through the dark mahogany tresses. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited to do this?" He continued to methodically run his fingers through the silky strands in thoughtful silence. "I've wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through your hair, hell, maybe since that first time I saw you on the Hogwarts Express."

"Ron?"

"I know," he wrapped a curl around his finger and twirled it softly round and around his joint, "When the Death Eaters took me from my cell or the Dementors left long enough for me to have a coherent thought, one of the things that I thought about was the fact that I was never going to know what it felt like to run my fingers through your hair." He let the curl slip free of his finger as his hand fell back to his lap. "It was horrible, Mione." His eyes focused on something over her left shoulder, giving her the impression that he was looking at something that was far away. "They had two Dementors guarding me at all times." He laughed a depreciating laugh. "You know, I never really valued my brain or really gave it much thought before. I guess you could say I took it for granted. There is nothing in the world so terrifying then realizing you are loosing your mind." He blinked twice and his eyes slid back into focus to meet hers. "Insanity is a terrifying thing, Hermione. You don't know who you are, where you've been or where you're going. And in my heart, I knew you and Harry were fine, but the brain plays terrible tricks on your mind and all I ever saw were the most horrible moments in my life. Harry disappearing from the maze, learning my dad was dying, realizing we were surrounded by Death Eaters in the department of Mysteries, you not waking up…" When his eyes met hers they were masked in anguish. "That moment after I called you a Mudblood and I realized I had lost you forever." His blue eyes glistened brightly in the intense morning sunlight spilling through the window.

"There was never a break, Mione. The Dementors would leave when the Death Eaters came, either to take me away for…questioning, or when they brought me food. But I was so lost that I didn't even realize they had gone until I heard the key in the lock. And by then it was too late to use it."

"Use what?" Hermione asked when Ron once again fell silent.

The redhead blinked at the sound of her voice. "What?"

"You said, _'And by then it was too late to use it.'_ Use what?"

Without a word he leaned to the side, stretching out his hand to grasp a piece of dirtied yellow paper resting on his bedside table, propped against his drinking glass. Straightening to a sitting position he gave the parchment a flick and it unfolded easily before her eyes.

Hermione reached out and grasped the parchment and drew it close for inspection. Her eyes widened when she recognized her own familiar handwriting. "My letter." Her eyes snapped up to his. "I forgot about my letter." She turned it over in her hand taking in the dirt marks, as well as the water and blood stains. "If you had my letter, why didn't you use it?"

"Because, Mione. I couldn't." He took the parchment back from her and folded it once again. "This letter has been both my blessing and my curse. I had no light, my cell was pitch dark. When the Death Eaters did leave a torch outside my door not enough light came through the bottom to see by and in order to activate this portkey you have to be able to read the words. And your hand writing is so minuscule that in the little light I had I couldn't read it."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief "Then how did you get it to work?"

Ron swung his legs back up on his bed and pulled the covers over him before he spoke again. "Malfoy came to see me yesterday." He made sure to avoid Hermione's eyes. "He wanted to know why it had taken so long for someone to come after me and why you had left without Harry." Ron finally looked over at her, his eyes narrowed in something close to disbelief. "You left the castle alone?"

Hermione straightened her shoulders defiantly as she met Ron's slightly angered gaze head on. "Yes I did. Harry promised Dumbledore and, more importantly, your parents that he wouldn't go looking for you. But I never made that promise. And seeing as it was my fault that you were taken and I…I almost killed you... Don't you see, Ron? I had to try and save you. It was my fault." She stared at him a moment longer, her entire body trembling. Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips. "You know, I should probably go." She shook her head sadly. "You shouldn't have to suffer my presences a moment longer."

Hermione made to stand but Ron's steady, almost cold voice made her pause. "You're right." She fell back in her seat in surprise. "You are absolutely right." He looked up into her tear filled, brown eyes. "I should _hate_ and _loath_ you, shouldn't I?" Hermione nodded despite herself. "I mean, you said it. All we ever do is fight and make each other miserable. I'm sure it would be a lot easier for Harry, what if we never _talked_ to each other again. That would simplify matters greatly, wouldn't it? You know what? You're right. You said it yourself, all you _ever _do is cause me pain. So go, if that's what you think is right. Merlin knows I've been trying to find a way to hate you all term."

"All right." Hermione gasped through a sob as she rose unsteadily to her feet, heart ceasing painfully in her chest. She was seconds away from completely breaking down and she didn't want Ron to see her when she did. "If that's what you think is best."

"No, Hermione, I don't think that's what's best." He cried out with exasperation, reaching with his left hand to take hold of hers, gripping it tight between his long fingers. "You don't get it, do you?" His fingers tightened reflexively around hers. "I would do anything for you, Hermione. Why haven't you realized that yet?" His grip tightened almost painfully with alarm when she continued to look away. "Hermione." He waited until their eyes met. "I would do _anything_ for you." He repeated. "I would rather die then see you hurt."

"What?" She stepped back in shock, pulling her hand free of his in the process.

His head shook from side to side, causing his still dirty hair to fall into his eyes. "I tried, Hermione. I tried so hard not to love you. You gave me so many reasons not to. But I couldn't help it." He reached up and cupped her face gently with his hand. "I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember and you damn well know that." He tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her right ear. "I lied to you, Mione." He let his thumb come down to trace the curve of her chin. "I told you I didn't believe in the one and only anymore..."

"Ron, I…"

"Please don't interrupt me." His hand fell away from her face and landed at his side. "I told you I didn't believe anymore because it hurt too much to believe. Even when Rane read it in my palm I refused. I… I lied to you, Hermione. I lied when I said I didn't believe in my one and only anymore. I do. And I know who she is."

"Really?" Hermione took the hand Ron held out to her.

"Yes." He lifted it to his lips and grazed her knuckles softly with them. "I do. Hermione…"

"Shhh." She stopped him suddenly be pressing fingers to his lips. She leaned in and touched her forehead to his. "You don't have to say anymore." Her eyes fell closed as she savored the feeling of him so near, his face so close to hers, their hands now clutched tight between their bodies.

"I love you, Hermione." Her eyes opened to find his gazing directly into hers. He laughed with joy when he saw the elation in her eyes. "I was so scared I was never going to get to tell you that."

"You did tell me that."

"Yes," he agreed almost sadly, "but I wanted to tell you and know you believed me."

She pulled away slightly and ran her fingers through his red hair which was dark with dirt and grease. "I always believed you, Ron, even if I didn't know that I did." She lifted his decrepit hand to her lips and began feathering it with kisses. "Ron."

"Yes."

She looked up into his bright blue eyes. "I love you, too."

Ron's lips separated and melted into the boyishly carefree, lopsided grin that always had the power to melt her heart with a single glance. Very slowly his hand came up to cradle the back of her head and draw her close. Hermione's eyes drifted closed just as their lips met and a crackle of electricity shot through them. The jolt found its way to her heart, stilling it as joy and love burst to life inside of her, washing away everything except for Ron and the way he gently held her in his arms as their lips parted and their tongues met in a more passionate surrender.

Conscientious of his broken hand, Hermione restrained herself from losing control and surrendering to his touch. Instead she pulled back, breaking the kiss however reluctantly. Ron groaned in protest at the loss of the contact but ceased when Hermione leaned her forehead against his once again.

"Madam Pomfrey," she explained, "said she was only going to give us a few minutes." Hermione explained when he continued to protest. "I didn't want to give her another reason to bar me from the hospital wing."

The two teenagers sat there a minute like that, heads pressed together, before Ron spoke again.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?" she sat up so that she could give him her full attention.

"Will you promise me something?"

Hermione traced his cheek with her fingers thoroughly pleased that she was finally allowed to touch him as much as she wished. "Anything."

"Will you promise me that you'll never _really_ leave me again? I mean, I understand you have to go back to Durmstrange to finish the term but I mean…"

Hermione effectively stilled his lips with her own, a fleeting thought in the back of her mind scolding her for not trying this earlier instead of wasting so much time with pointless bickering. When she pulled away, this time more reluctant then the last, her eyes were filled with sincerity and love. She bit her lip a moment as she searched for a suitable answer. "I promise you, Ron… they'll have to kill me first."

"Thank, Merlin." Ron reached up to cup her face, drawing it down close to his.

"Ron," Hermione stopped him a hair's breath away from her mouth. "Will you promise _me_ something?"

"Anything." He brushed the tip of his long nose against hers.

"Can you promise me to forget about this year, and to never talk about it again? Only, we both made so many mistakes and…"

"Done." Ron agreed, not needing to hear the rest of her argument. He captured her lips in a hungry kiss once again. Instead of protesting and pulling away like Ron feared she would, Hermione eagerly parted her lips and surrender her mouth to his kiss and the invasion of his tongue, sending hers forward to greet his with desire.

"Mmm." Ron groaned when Hermione shifted, breaking the contact of their lips for a moment.

"What?" she gasped, when his lips left hers to feather a train of kisses along her chin and down her neck.

"Mine." He growled, pulling his lips away from her flesh long enough to mutter the word.

"Yes." Hermione smiled joyfully as she thread her fingers through his hair. "Yours."

He left the flesh of her neck to press a gentle kiss to the bridge of her nose before returning to her lips. "My one and only."

Laughing with delight, Hermione lunged at him, forcing him back into the pillows and snogged him with all the love that was in her, oblivious to the shuffling feet outside the curtain.

Holding a finger to his lips, Harry directed Ginny away from the curtained area and back toward the door of the hospital wing. When they slipped through and quietly closed it behind them they both burst into a fit of laughter.

"Did you see the way they were going at it?" Ginny cried, falling against the wall.

Harry shook his head with laughter. "I'd have to be blind and deaf not to."

Ginny stared dumbly at the door as her brain wrapped around what she had just seen. Harry stared at her intently. He could see the transformation come over her, right before his eyes. The look of lost little girl was quickly being replaced with that of the sassy little minx he had grown to love. Eyes lighting up with glee and mischievousness, she glanced over at him. "Do you think we should tell them we know?"

Harry's eyes never left the redhead. The green orbs twinkled with merriment as he stepped closer to her. "No. Let's not ruin it for them. Besides," the same wicked gleam that had come over her eyes was creeping into his. "It'll be more fun to wait until they tell us."

Ginny smiled at him as a sign of agreement before she turned back to the closed door. "Do you think it's safe to go in?"

Before Harry could answer the sound of a vase or a glass falling off a table and shattering on the floor met their ears. "No," his voice was choked with laughter as he shook his head. "Let's give them a few minutes alone." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her away from the door and down the hall.


End file.
